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fanfic-corner · 1 year

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Destiel Emotional Hurt/Comfort Fics

Hello everyone! Beating our favourite characters up just so they can be fixed up again nicely is brilliant, but I also love fics that explore the emotional side of hurt/comfort, since it's often easier to fix a bullet wound than a broken heart. So, I hope you enjoy today's list of fics which mentally beat our favourite characters up!

Please note that a lot of these fics contain heavy subjects, so please make sure to read all of the warnings and tags before reading and take care of yourself!

choices. by scoundrelhan (1.1k)

Castiel thinks he’s dying. Humans are always doing that.

Exposed to What You Hide by SailorChibi (1.8k)

"We think Cas is a procubus," Sam blurted out. Then he winced and yelped when Charlie kicked him under the table. "Ow!"

"Smooth, Sam," Charlie snapped.

Dean looked back and forth between them, realizing that they were both 100% serious. "A procubus."

"Basically it's the sexless version of an incubus or a succubus," Charlie explained before Sam could. "It's... it's a demon that kills people by sleeping with them." She was chewing on her thumbnail now, eyes big and apologetic. Sam had done one better pasting on a truly epic kicked puppy expression of apology.

"You think Cas is killing people by cuddling with them," Dean said, just to be sure.

Could Not Return You by tigersinlondon (2.8k)

Dean struggles to commit to a long term relationship with Cas, even though he knows he's in it for the long haul. Cas helps tease out what's holding him back, and provides some much-needed reassurance.

You are my home by Desirae (4.7k)

Things have settled down since rescuing Sam. Mary is bonding with her sons, and Castiel is nearly back to full capacity, just needing a little sleep here and there. When Dean discovers Cas' unusual resting spot, what starts as a series confessions leads to the emotional healing they both needed.

Stories Are Made of Mistakes by wildhoneypie (4.9k)

In which Cas is human and doesn't understand basic concepts like: clothing, Mythbusters, moisturizer, and Greek food. Dean is...Dean and doesn't understand basic concepts like: boyfriends, language, how to tell your friend that he's a walking miracle, and when not to quip.

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.7k)

The Empty takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s, every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven. But in the middle of lecturing Cas in the form of Balthazar, it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

Event Horizon by Winglesss (6.4k)

Castiel couldn't have helped his sister. That's why being offered a chance to help somebody else dealing with suicidal thoughts he took it without hesitation.

When he gets the first text from someone who needs his help, nothing goes as he expected.

broken when I'm lonesome by SailorChibi (7k)

After being saved from hell, Dean's old methods of coping aren't working anymore: he's not sexually attracted to anyone, and he's not interested in sex no matter how many times he climbs into bed with hot, naked women.

Sam is convinced that his brother is just depressed, but Dean knows this goes deeper than that. He still craves the intimacy that can make him feel safe.

Fortunately, Castiel is there to both understand and provide.

Nothing Equals the Splendor by RurouniHime (7.8k)

Maybe it’s the cynic in him. The hunter, always under the surface of any quietude he ever found. Or maybe it’s just that he has always had trouble with blind faith. But after a while (a blink? A decade? A century?), Dean raises his eyebrows, looks around, and says—

“Uh. No.”

It’s so close. Just so slightly imperfect. And maybe, he analyzes, maybe that’s the final knell of this bell called contentment. Dean’s experience with happiness has always been that last rise in the road, right before it turns. Right before fate comes barreling around the corner head on.

He turns in his spot on the bridge, and suddenly Sam is like a cellophane film through which he can see the light streaming, and the taste of cheap beer on his tongue is much, much older a memory than it should be.

“Oh, you’re good,” he says, and means it.

The Beginning by Princess_Aleera (17k)

Where a mission goes horribly wrong, and Castiel gets his wings plucked off for it.

That Black Dog Ache by SaltyWords (28k)

A simple case turns Dean upside down as he attempts to deal with the effects of a particularly strange love spell.

First Gentleman Wanted by youaresunlight (31k)

President of the United States Castiel Novak is popular, charismatic, and knee-deep in campaigning for a second term. He’d be the ideal candidate if it weren’t for the fact that he hasn’t dated once while in political office. With his opponent’s relentless PR team calling him incapable of emotional commitment, Castiel’s staff decides to remedy the situation by finding their boss a fake, picture-perfect boyfriend. And when Dean Winchester enters the scene, he and Cas become America’s new favorite couple, except they’ve got a whole lot of history between them and complicated feelings to resolve.

Just Like You by imherecauseimnotallthere98 (35k)

When John shows up at their door in the middle of the night, the Winchesters and Cas start looking into who or what could have brought him back. Meanwhile, Dean struggles to keep his relationship with Cas a secret from his father, with some help from Sam. The tension rises between the Winchesters as Dean shows John that he is no longer the obedient little soldier he once was, and tries to establish himself as an equal with his dad.

Rewriting the Book by MonPetitTresor (37k)

When Sam gets a little too close to stopping Metatron’s plans, the angel decides to use some of his extra juice to get Sam out of his way by sending him to a completely different reality. He never could’ve predicted what Sam might find there – or what he might bring back home with him.

Wild by Castielslostwings (67k)

Castiel and Dean meet for the first time on a plane ride out of Nowhere, Alaska. Castiel’s headed home after an impulsive solo vacation and Dean, a hardened Alaskan native, is just trying to get out of the impossibly small town he grew up in that’s got nothing left to offer him. They forge an instant connection over Dean’s flying anxiety and whiskey, a meet-cute that has all the makings of a rom-com with a sickeningly sweet happy ending. That is, until their plane explodes in mid-air, crashing headlong into the Alaskan wilderness and killing everyone on board save for Dean and Castiel. When no rescue shows up to save them, the two men are forced to make some tough decisions. To make it home alive they’ll have to trust each other and find faith neither of them has ever really wanted. Will they survive or succumb to the unforgiving mountain wilderness? And will their journey tear them apart... or bring them closer together?

carry on by foolondahill17 (91k)

God is dead. Sammy finally has what he always wanted. The kid is alive again and trying to figure out the whole human schtick. Cas – Cas is complicated, like always. And Dean is barreling headfirst into a mental breakdown. It’s the end of the road so far, and the future never looked so frightening.

The House on the Ocean Road by coffeeandcas (111k)

Dean Winchester is on the run from his life. He's done something unforgivable, and can't face his family or friends ever again. So he does what any rational person would do: fakes his own death and vanishes into the ether.

Wandering aimlessly along country roads, he succumbs to the elements during a violent storm and wakes up hours later in the home of a stranger: a single dad living alone in an isolated beach house, with a haunting past of his own. Cas is sweet and shy, but welcomes Dean into his home and tells him he can stay as long as he needs, never prying into his life or asking him to spill his secrets.

As they rapidly forge a close friendship, Dean finds that the quiet life by the ocean with Cas is exactly what he's been dreaming of. He only hopes his past never catches up with him.

Bound To You by Chipper99 (128k)

Faced with death, Dean makes one last ditch effort: praying to an Angel he knows wont hear him. Deans prayers are answered when a vessel-less Castiel forces himself out from the Empty, taking possession of Dean's body in order to heal him. Castiel's grace is running finite however, charged down after saving Dean's life. Now Castiel resides within Dean's mind, too weak to survive a transfer to another vessel, leading them to a desperate search for a way to rebuild his body. Time is of the essence, with Castiel's grace burning out with every passing day...

Four Letter Word For Intercourse by bendingsignpost (194k)

As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties.

What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right?

(It's probably a bad idea, but he really can't help himself.)

I hope you enjoy reading these fantastic fics!! And thank you to the amazing authors for sharing them with us. If you ever have any requests for a fic rec list, please let me know!

tag list under the cut! ask to be added or removed :D

@summer1066 // @goncharovcum

#destiel #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #spn #fic recs #emotional hurt/comfort #ao3 #long post #lina lore #suicide mention

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ctl-yuejie · 1 year

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I adore WinTeam but P’Pruek is the true delight.

His face when Win told him and Dean that he had already slept with Team.

Truely the expression of a man who is well-meaning but about to smile very widely at the kind of psychological damage that has been suddenly unleashed on him

#between us the series #between us #happy we got at long last more manow - i love her #this episode was kind of filler but hopefully they got most of the sponsorships out of the way like this #the teamwin scenes in the beginning felt a bit disconnected because of it but i adored the last bit where they each spoke to their friends #abotu their feelings #much to dean's honest concern and breaking p'preuk's mind #i was ready for standard drama and probably would have liked it but i also like the implicit angst of both of them thinking they're one-side #ly in love (my kind of idiots)#and how jarring it must be to hear your crush talk about having had sex with you to his friends while you yourself haven't even mentioned be #ing interested in the guy before your own friends #just tastiness all around #happy we got win and his brothers but i couldn't care less about bumblebee and prince #again: cannot wait until next week #maybe it is the red herring for this week with last week's preview but why do i feel like team's night time practice will be far more dramat #ic than the preview suggests?#to be fair to p'pruek: i didn't expect win to tell them that he had slept with team already #also respect dean being a friend but still watching out for no juniors getting hurt

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spnj2fanlw · 1 month

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Summary:

Sam wakes after being soulless for three years to discover that Dean and his relationship with him have undergone some serious changes. Through traveling and hunting with Dean, Sam struggles to put his life back together after events he has only limited memory of. A season six wincest AU

******

So this one's deep and dark and kinda brilliant and beautiful. Lots of twists and an interesting case and well Sams angst... And oh man Dean... Yeah you should give it a read.

#supernatural #wincest #dean winchester #sam winchester #Lots of mentions of Soulless Sam #dark #angst #hurt with eventual comfort #soulless is...#well you gotta read for that answer

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ardentpoop · 2 months

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ah yes - excellent - dean projecting his and sam's current dynamic as needing to remain the same at all costs is so good. i knew there was something else that was scratching at my bones regarding dean's POV in this scene and THAT was surely it because the feelings are happily nomming on my ribcage. perfect tags are perfect!

he clings to it for dear life lol

#i like thinking abt the points in the series when sam was similarly desperate to hold onto Them #s2 after john's death. s3 after dean's deal. s4 after dean died and sam failed to rescue him from hell #s5 after ruby manipulated sam into ''jumpstarting the apocalypse'' and dean was ''proven right''#all extremely low points for him mentally #the rest of the time it's dean yanking sam closer while he struggles to assert his independence #i mentioned in another post today that i believe dean couldn't exist without sam but the reverse isn't true - wanna add that #sam usually THINKS it's true due to the punishing nature of their relationship. but that belief only ever hurts him.#asks #demonbloodboyking #spn

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quietwingsinthesky · 10 months

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I think what bothers me most about that argument is that dean is talking down to Sam so much

Implying that he’s not mentally sound and that dena HAS to be the one to clean up, telling Sam to stop moping about it and then ending it by saying he can stop acting like a bitch now?

That’s what they view as dean standing up for himself?!??!

I really like the Amy benny Emma situations cuz it tells us so much about dean (Sam too but mostly dean) but like so little of what it tells us is positive. ESP since I personally think so much of the benny stuff is projection like immediately telling Sam not to kill benny and assuming Sam will go after him and then immediately going after amy when he finds out about her

alsjfjlfjs I barely have anything to add here, you hit the nail on the head

the whole argument just. Dean does not come out looking good there huh. Especially the jab about Sam’s hallucinations. And the earlier line, “There are certain people in this world, no matter how dangerous they are, you just can't.” There’s no way Dean is saying that without knowing how Sam is going to hear it. That Sam is the dangerous thing that Dean could never put down. The whole shifting of this situation to be on Sam is (fun for me because I love when Dean uses how well he knows Sam to hit him where it hurts) really messed up.

Him starting with telling Sam he’s got a right to be angry, but then following that up with telling him he’s been angry long enough and needs to stop… i Need to chew on him, when did he decide he was the authority on how long Sam gets to feel resentful or to grieve his friend…

Something horribly delicious about Dean appointing himself timekeeper on Sam’s feelings.

#dean winchester #ask #spn #also. also. I would be remiss not to mention that Dean poking at Sam’s hell trauma specifically IS the part of this that makes me go :/#like. :/ that’s a little ooc coming from the guy who also went to hell. claiming Sam can’t make the right ‘moral’ choice and kill Amy?#yeah that tracks with Dean. he’s judge jury and executioner babyyy.#but him going after Sam’s torture and using that to add to his argument?#I mean he is pissed off. it could just be something said from frustration. but still.#again this whole situation is very. Keep The Status quo. you know?#supernatural’s never ending tension of how badly it wants sam & Dean to learn monsters are people too #and the fact that if they ever do. the whole premise of the show collapses in on itself.#so they never can. and they keep fighting about it. and they keep hurting each other and also anything that gets in their way.#show of all time. 10/10. no notes. what the fuck were they thinking.

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samsrowena · 2 years

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charmelo and snyder when i fucking get you

#i only like one or two episodes of theirs at best and even then i will admit the eps are not actually good #but their dean characterization literally enrages me every time they suck so fucking bad and do not get him AT ALL #not to mention they should have never even got to write another episode after the racist dumpster fire that is the purge #anyways. they're worse writers than buckleming and i will die on that hill #spn.txt #spn rewatch #spn 11x13 #love hurts #eric charmelo #nicole snyder

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pregstiel · 2 years

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so. dean decides cas needs to get out there, but since cas wants a "connection" rather than one night stands at bars, decides to set him up with a dating app. the first few matches don't work out because cas doesn't quite understand the etiquette around it, so dean decides to set up a generic girl account on the same app to message cas. cas can text this fake girl and dean can give him tips on how to approach real women without cas striking out on every woman within 50 miles while learning, foolproof! of course though, flirting over text isn't just about the first couple messages. leaving cas there would be irresponsible -- what if he meets a girl he really likes, but flubs it a few weeks in when they're getting to know each other better? that'd be a travesty. better for dean to keep the profile going for a while to make sure cas really has everything down. if it takes a few months before dean is sure cas is ready to leave the nest, it takes a few months! dean is always happy to help his best buddy out :)

#dean brought this up and cas simply did not mention the other successes he had. practice never hurt anyone

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what-about-sastiel-samstiel · 2 years

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This is family

Idk where I was going with this, canon typical violence, set in season 11? Uh the events that take place immediately after Amara and Chuck taking sabbatical. No beta we die like Bobby

( Sam still sees lucifer when he has no control over anything his brain does, in dire near death experiences, as exampled here etc.)

Sam x Castiel

Castiel was never one to read that much into relationships, romantically concerned, of course. But if they had solidified their bond as one thing he never looked at it in a different lense after that.

He acknowledged that the relationship may have changed, grown but always regarded it with the official label that was put between the two participants.

But now, after he had killed- and... Tortured, to some extent, people who might have (yes, might have, they weren't even sure.) Had a lead on Sam he reviewed the relationship again. Sitting in silence in the back of the Impala as Mary and Dean drove.

Sam at first was seen as the abomination of the world.

Though after being given a choice of freewill and watching the two, Sam, he had endured and fixed so much. Never complained about it outside of his brother. And even then he still he kept looking for ways to fix things. Things that didn't have to do with him. Ignored his overall health to help others that he didn't know, had fought the good fight and smiled most the way through.

Not to mention what his soul had gone through.

It was so frail, and wounded; energy, which should of been what he sesned when he retrieved it wasn't present, but replaced with fear. He held Sam's soul in the palm of his hand, and it was so damaged- Lucifer had done so much...

He'd admit that having gotten his soul out from that depth also added to his new found bond with the Winchester. But, that just amplified what he felt.

With Deans rise from perdition, he did have a 'bond', he was ordered to keep him alive, after all, he was the key to winning the fated battle. But, that was it. Sure it does add a slight more intimate aspect of their relationship but nothing like that.

Sam's rise however..

Sam was so eager to give his life for the cause at every turn, desperate to make up for all he had done, but, if you gave an abomination like Lucifer and his offspring a chance to redeem themselves, but paired it with free will, they'd squander it. They're too selfish not to! But, Sam, however, kept it as his first priority. Even when he went.. 'Darkside' (or darkseid?) He did it for what he thought was the right reasons.

Castiel respected him for that, he knew all too well what going down that path was like, and he justified it for heaven, and the angels but that doesn't make any of it okay. But Sam had comforted him.

"Cas, I know how it feels, you think you're doing it for these right reasons and it all crumbles around you and you're at fault. Weather the reasons were pure or not-"

The car swerved and through the heavy pants and Dean's cursing, the car door opened.

***

Sam gripped the shard tightly, acutely aware of the damage he was causing. He deserved it, anyway. Not that Dean would see it that way. Dean was always blind when it came to the ugly truth of his kid brother.

Hazel met Hazel, he supposed that's 7 years of bad luck, though in all honesty it seemed like his everyday life.

Memories danced around his vision, Lucifers laughs filled the back ground before coming to a halt.

"Really, Sammy? "

Turning around halfway and glancing behind his shoulder, he saw Lucifer. Hands held neatly in front of him, a scoff across his features.

"I know you suck, but, c'mon Sam, it was a petite girl!"

Sam twitched.

"And what, you're here, hoping big brother Dean will save you?" Lucifer paced, one hand on his elbow the other under his chin.

Sam didn't dare respond, he knew he was being watched, and if they figured out, he was still haunted by Lucifer it's a whole other level of done for.

"Come on, Samantha, talk to me! I hardly come around, and the one time I do?" He steps closer. "You're in someone's fun time basement, now, I don't judge, I mean" he chuckles continuing his advancements. "You do you, But, Sam, I could get you out of here."

His head pounded again, and he had to stifle a groan as his vision blurred.

"Sammy? Cmon man, do I have to go the whole nine yards with you?! Really?!"

Sam internally cursed, his left hand reaching up and gripping his temple.

"Sammy, I do miss our time together, really, I do." Lucifer was now leaning on the wall next to the shattered mirror.

"And I can't help but notice that your stupid little trick isn't helping!" He sing-songed, a malicious smile playing onto his lips.

Sam opened his mouth but it closed just as quickly, a vision of Dean dying, blaming Sam for it and ultimately causing him to grip the blade harder.

"I can make it stop," Lucifer continued to sing his words, walking up to Sam's shoulder.

Sam felt a tug on his tongue, beckoning him to spill his thoughts but he forced himself to remain silent, his glare only becoming more pointed.

"Awhawhaw... Isn't that cute?" Lucifer mused, gripping Sam's shoulder tightly. "She thinks she can get into your head!"

"Sam! Sam! Please, Sam!!" A different vision wailed, this time in Castiels Gravelly voice.

"Doesn't she know you've got nothing but mush stored up there?" He gritted out, pushing at Sam's head as he spoke, anger clear in his voice.

Sam flinched causing Lucifer to pause and chuckle. He continued closing the small distance around Sam, turning to face him again when he finished.

"Alright, Sam, talk to me, annnnddd I mightt," he looked into Sam's eyes, "might," he repeated, pointing at him for dramatic effect. "Let at least Dean live-"

Lucifer stopped, and then started again. "Nah, nah, nah, nah, hes done too fucking much, but maybe Mary? Eh?" He nudged Sam's shoulder like he were a friend.

Sam couldn't stop the pained groan that escaped him, surprised to hear a hint of a sob in there.

Everything was so foggy, so painful-

"Cassie?" Lucifer poked Sam's head again, trying to provoke a response.

Sam was close, so fucking close to breaking, Lucifer could see it.

"SaAaAm," Lucifer mocked the newest vision and flailed his arms a bit as he did so.

Lucifer was just about to continue his charades when Sam huffed and slit his throat abruptly, blood spewing out of the wound, Sam sat down, failing in not falling as he did so.

"Oo.. What a crash," Lucifer spoke as Sam landed on his ass.

"Oof, Sammy, I didn't think you'd stoop so low." He sighed, barely catching a glimpse of Sams bitch face as he struggled to keep consciousness.

It was barely a moment before Sam felt a hand on his throat, pressing down with force, he looked into the eyes and saw red. Lucifer was pissed.

"Sam, Sam, Sam," he sneered, getting even closer to the boy on the ground. "Pathetic, useless little Sam,"

He put more pressure onto Sam's wound.

Sam gasped, he had hoped whoever was watching him at this time would come in, try and save him ultimately allowing his escape, but Lucifer has other plans.

Lucifer licked his lips, before gesturing vaguely to a vision behind him; Jess burned before his eyes.

"Eh, let's change it up. What do you think, sport?" Lucifer crouched by Sam and with a flick of his wrist the vision changed.

Sam when he had demon blood in him, starting the apocalypse, played.

"Booorrriinngggg, "

It was like the channel changed, and Sam was now trying to kill Bobby. His father, and he didn't even care for Bobbys voice of reason.

"Hm, I like this one, you have a bit of character here."

He flicked his wrist again.

"Oo! Don't change the channel! Let's make popcorn." He laughed as visions of Sam killing countless demons and their mortal hosts for a hint about Dean's whereabouts.

"Honestly, Sam, this is where I knew for sure that you belonged in the cage. "

Lucifer shrugged.

"I mean, sure, countless people have died on your watch."

Sam winced, now wishing that his cut had been deeper.

"But brushing them under the carpet, look how many you killed... On purpose!" Lucifer turned to Sam, still amused. "Oh, and the ways you did it too..... Mmm, creative, I assure you. My favorite parts were the families, did you know, that that much grief and anger is kinda a turn on?"

Sam set his jaw, trying desperately to block out the arch angel. Sam noticed his shirt was sticky, looking down only to see blood seeping into his shirt and clinging to his chest. As if on cue, his vision blurred and his head felt as if someone had a jackhammer in there.

It took a lot more to recover this time, not even fully recovering as Lucifer decided to continue.

"Speaking of, why don't you ever talk about us" Lucifer gestured to himself and Sam.

"I mean, we have history. More so than old Jessica." Sam had to use all his willpower to not acknowledge the fallen angel, choosing to grab the shard of glass with his other hand, now noticing a large gash in its place.

"Sammy," Lucifer stared into Sam's own eyes, as Sam brought the shard slowly back up to his throat, "Sammy!"

Sam began to look at the devil confused as Lucifer began to say his name like a mantra.

He felt hands shake his shoulder, and all of a sudden Lucifer dissipated, being replaced by Dean.

"Sammy! Stay with me okay?" He yanked the shard out of Sam's hand throwing it somewhere behind him.

Sam gave a half assed nod, still unclear on his surroundings besides Dean. He does know however, that someone caught his brothers attention, he confirmed this when he heard a faint "Cas, *mumble mumble* brother."

A moment later he felt strong hands on his shoulders, a deep sound swallowing him whole, comfortingly soothing. Soon after he decided to give in to unconsciousness as it tugged at his eyelids. And all that was left was darkness and muffled voices.

Sam woke, the urge to vomit was pushed down as well as he could manage trying to gather his surroundings.

He was back at the bunker, hands bandaged and he assumed his neck was too when an uncomfortable scratch tore at his jaw.

"Sam," the same Gravelly voice from the visions, and faintly remembers it after too, rung in his ears in a welcoming tune. "You're awake."

Sam allowed himself to take in the angels features, and boy did he look like an angel.

Before he could stare he spoke up, fear rushing through him, "Dean, Mom- whe-" he rasped and winced as his throat turned up dry.

Castiel shushed him, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder as if telling him to lie back down.

"They're fine, Dean's taking a shower and your mother is sleeping."

Castiel smiled gently, and god was it not one of the most beautiful and calming things he had ever seen.

"Here, Sam, you should drink."

Castiel brought a glass of water from the nightstand and brought it to his lips, carefully making sure Sam drank it, either ignoring Sam's blush or not noticing.

Sam gasped gently when he finished, thanking the angel with a nod.

"Thanks, Cas, I really appreciate it." Cas hummed.

"It's no problem, at all, Sam Winchester. " Cas looked away and looked back quickly, a tiny hint of a blush crawling up his neck.

"I'm sorry I couldn't just heal you. She had quite the impressive magic spell on you, and drugs." He finished angrily, but quickly schooled himself.

"I could however heal your feet, much to my relief and surprise."

Sam nodded and smiled. "I don't know how any of us manage without you, Cas."

Sam looked groggy, and on the edge of falling back asleep but still Castiel flushed upon Sam gently holding his hand.

Castiel didn't know what came over him, but the words fell from his lips before he could stop them. "Sam, we we're so worried- I, was worried, you scared me out my wits when I saw you in that basement, murmuring about people who weren't there-" Castiel choked, his usual stoicness had completely disappeared.

Cas tightened his hold on Sam's hand, "I was so... Scared, we all were.. And seeing you like that? I will never let any harm be done to you again. I swear. You're worth to much, for everyone, to me.." Castiel ended his rant by finally looking Sam in the eye.

Sam was smiling like an idiot and his eyes were strainging to stay open, determined to not miss a moment.

"Cas-"

"Boooo, total chics." Dean interrupted, sitting on the other side of the bed, brushing the obnoxiously long hair aside to look at his baby brother.

"Heya Sammy.. How we feeling?"

"Good, tired, but I'm sure I'll feel at a hundred percent with sleep." His eyes drooped more as if to emphasize.

Dean smiled pulled a chair up to the side of the bed. Refusing to leave I order to make sure he was okay.

It wasn't lost on any of them that Sam and Castiels hands were still intertwined, and Dean made sure to talk to Castiel about his intentions later, but for now he was dozing off along with his little brother.

Sam couldn't be happier. The emotional rollercoaster was more than enough to drag him back to sleep for days if he let it. But this was good. This was nice. This was his family.

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coryosbaby · 5 months

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we (8 billion people) are begging for dom fem reader and coryo dynamic. Why she always gotta be sub like my dom ass would slap the shit out of him ong

ʙᴇɢɢɪɴ’ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴋɴᴇᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ !

Synopsis: Coriolanus will do anything to get to the top, right?

Content warning . power dynamics, loss of virginity, face riding, multiple orgasms, marking, sub!pussydrunk! Coryo, dom! Reader that’s a lil fucked up

notes: me when coryo has hair real . This kinda sucks I’m sorry

When you see Coriolanus Snow, you see a desperate man.

A boy, actually. You see a boy. A desperate, handsome, power hungry boy. You can see it in the way he towers over his peers in a sort of fake dominance, the fauxness behind his sugary sweet words directed to anything or anyone in a higher position— some even directed towards you, when that blush isn’t flushing his cheeks with a feral intensity.

As the daughter of Dr. Gaul, it’s quite easy for you to advance some of your friends in their studies. You are not only her daughter, but in a position of power yourself. You know people— and Coriolanus knows that. You aren’t dumb. You can tell by his eyes, the empty, icy blue orbs not quite telling the truth.

Coriolanus, in a way, is just like you.

Maybe that’s what intrigues you so much about him. Besides that pretty smile, or those golden curls or those muscles that make you drool, you admire his determination. You know about his poorness (not all know, but some do, as Dean Casca Highbottom once quoted to him), and you know one will go far to satiate their own greed.

It’s just a matter of how far.

—

Coriolanus walks into your lab crying, one day.

Not obviously. It’s subtle, as you demand he sit down and take off his shirt so you can stitch up his wounds. Your hands graze it softly, and he winces.

“Does it hurt?” You ask him, even though you already know the answer.

He lets out a shaky breath, his hands clenching at the seat.

“Yes.”

An honest answer. He must trust you.

You hum, beginning to work on his wound with taught precision. Looking at him now, his jaw is clenching tightly and the boy is shaking so much you fear he might break.

“I killed someone.”

He states it in a remorseful tone, the tone of someone weak and pathetic.

“Someone in the games, if I’m correct?”

He turns to look at you in surprise, as if you didn’t have access to your mother’s decision of allowing him to walk in there and save his friend Sejanus. He says nothing, then. He sniffles, and cries silently.

“You know,” you state, beginning to stitch him. “I’ve killed someone too. Someone I needed to kill.” You smile, remembering the one time a student who was threatening to take your place mysteriously fell into the pit of snakes. “It was necessary.”

Coriolanus tries to stay nonchalant, but you can see the way his shoulders tense. He doesn’t say a word, so you continue.

“Was it necessary to kill the person you killed?”

He looks down at his hands. Caked with blood, knuckles drawn taught. You want to bite them.

“No,” Coriolanus answers slowly. “No, it wasn’t.”

Maybe there’s more darkness to the boy than you originally thought.

You speak to him in a much lower tone now.

“Maybe it was. You just don’t know it.” And then, “There are a lot of things certain people can do to get to the top, Coriolanus.”

Your insinuation doesn’t go unnoticed. He moves his head to look at you.

“And what would that be?”

Typical. Someone so power hungry that his head turns at the mere mention of an opportunity. You’ve got him right where you want him.

You finish up his stitches. You move around to his front, your short red skirt all of a sudden incredibly suffocating as he looks up at you with something utterly pathetic in his gaze.

“How far are you willing to go, Coriolanus?”

And that’s when, a few moments later, you get your wish: that skirt, oh so suffocating, is strewn on the floor, Coriolanus’ big hands massaging the skin of your thighs as you straddle him. Your lips press against his in a hot and heavy kiss, your tongue massaging his lips with fervor. He may be doing this for advancement, but the blonde wants you nonetheless. You can see in the way his hips grind up, the way he lets out desperate whines as you lick up his tears with your tongue. Pulling away from him, your cunt clenches when he tries to push your body down onto his crotch.

“No, Coryo,” you demand, though your voice is desperate. “I want you on the floor, okay? You’re going to taste me first.”

He hesitates, his eyes darting to your lacey panties and then to the colorful tiles.

“… the floor?”

He seems nervous, jittery. It’s not as if he’s afraid of getting dirty, or something.

No, this is something else. In the way he nervously twiddles his fingers, the way his bottom lip catches in between his teeth. It’s not as if he wants to stop— it’s more so that he’s inexperienced.

And then it hits you.

Coriolanus snow is a virgin. This big handsome boy, beautiful and delicious, has never done had sex before. He’s never felt the touch of a woman, never eaten pussy or got his dick sucked.

And for some reason, that makes you want him more.

“Oh,” you coo to him, soft. “Coryo, you’ve never done this before, have you?”

His face turns dusty pink, but he tries to deny, deny, deny.

“What? No! Of course I’m not. I’m just..” he looks at the floor, his lie clear on his face. “The tiles are cold. Dirty.”

“You’re caked with blood and sweat, sweet boy. I’m sure the tiles will be fine.”

He looks away from you, his lips drawn up into a pout.

“I’m not a virgin.” He states, merely to himself. You raise a brow, an amused smile playing on your lips as you move farther away from him.

“Then why don’t you come and eat my pussy, baby?”

His cock strains against his zipper, and you swear you can see it twitch from where you’re standing. He gulps, and with a submission you would’ve never expected, the boy drops to his knees on the tile and makes his way towards you. His shirt, unbuttoned, shows the pretty lines of his chest and his rippling back muscles, and when he gets to you, he stops at the front of your still standing knees. Satisfaction wades through you when his hands move up to the waistband of your underwear and yanks them down with shaking hands. Your smell hits his nose, makes his head tilt back as he lets out a throaty sound in the back of his throat. His tongue laves over the skin of your inner thigh, his hands going around the back of one of your knees to pull you close. You spread your legs to allow him access, your pussy lips drenched with arousal as his breath laves over you.

“Go on, Coryo,” you urge. “You want me to put a good word to my colleagues, yeah? So you better do a good job.”

He moans, his tongue finally slipping in between your folds as he tastes you. He’s messy, sloppy, and it’s good but it’s not good enough.

“God. I thought you were experienced? Huh, Coryo? Don’t you wanna make me feel good? Are you even fucking trying?”

He pulls away from you, shame in his eyes as you scold him. He pleads, his lip wobbling, his arms holding onto your legs.

“Please, I’m sorry. ‘M so sorry. Teach me, please…”

He tries to press a kiss to your cunt, but you kick him away with your foot. He falls to the ground, helpless.

“Lay down—I don’t care if it hurts your back. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

He does as he’s told, all sweet and sweaty and bloody. His back hits the tile, injured but he ignores it when he watches you tower over him. You move down, pressing your knees on either side of his head. He grabs your thighs to place his mouth back on you, but you grab his golden curls in your hands and yank him back. He groans in pain, his feet kicking in a sort of pleasured resistance.

“You use your mouth when I tell you to, coryo,” you scold, watching the way his eyes flutter and only focus on your dripping pussy. “You do what I say. If I guide your head, or press myself down at a certain spot, you go along with it. Do you understand me?”

He nods, desperate to get his mouth on you, his cock thrusting into the open air.

“Good. Now, go slower. Stick out your tongue.. wider… therrre you go, baby.” His eyes focus on that one spot, his tongue hovering right over your clit. He must have read up on this a time or two. You press him closer, shoving his face into your heat as his tongue hits the swollen bud. “You see that? That’s my clit. Yeahh, stick your tongue right there…”

He groans, the taste of your sweet slick making his eyes roll back. His palms splay across your ass, digging crescent moons into the skin. You move your hips in a circular motion, giving Coryo the impression to move his tongue that way. He’s a smart boy, so he knows exactly what you’re communicating to him. His tongue moves in slow, languid circles, your slick already dripping down his chin. You can’t help but give into the pleasure he’s giving you for a moment, riding his face like your life depends on it before slowing down and stopping.

“Good, coryo. You’re being such a good boy. But you need to move your tongue down. You don’t want to play with my clit too much, because I’ll cum quick if you do.”

He makes a noise of understanding, moving his tongue down to your hole. It’s much funner this way, he thinks. The tip of his tongue can gather up the awaiting slick that’s spilling out of you, it makes your taste all the more prominent. You give him some room to experiment now, letting him move his tongue in between your clit and your hole. He catches on, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was experienced now— he’s a natural learner. Your hips grind down into him, and when he tongues your hole you use his strong nose to grind lazily against. Coryo can only breathe in your slick, his brain becoming fuzzy from his lack of air. But it’s okay. It’s okay because he’s doing good.

You can feel yourself getting close, the languid strokes of his tongue making your legs shake. You hump against his mouth, your head thrown back.

“Gonna cum,” you say to him. “Gonna cum on this slut mouth.”

He groans, his jaw working even harder now. He focuses on your clit more, save for the few times that he slurps up the slick from your hole. Your orgasm is fast approaching, your body drawing up tight.

And finally, you’re cumming on his mouth, moans spilling from your lips and Coryo’s. He’s desperate to catch all of your cum onto his awaiting tongue, his legs still moving around as he consumes you like a man starved. Your eyes roll back and you grind your hips against him as you come down from your high. Coryo pulls away once he’s satiated, looking up at you with his chin coated in slick.

You sigh, pulling your hips back to give him some air. You move your body off of him, going to your knees to watch his pussy drunk face still follow your cunt as you move. You want to return the favor, now. It’s only fair.

But looking down, you notice a wet spot soaking through Coryo’s pants.

He lifts himself up on his elbows, looking from his crotch to you. He flushes, apologies spewing from his wet lips, shaking his head.

“I tried not to. I really, really did. ‘M so sorry.”

He tries to reach out to touch you, but you just move away and down to his crotch. You unbutton his jeans, and he lets you. You look down at his red briefs, watching the white stain peeking through.

“Oh, baby. You just couldn’t help, it could you?”

You mock him, your hand palming his shaft. He lets out a whimper, his head falling back against the tile. He knows it’s too much, but he isn’t stopping you. You pull his briefs down, and boy is he big. Thick and long, all pretty and red with cum dripping down to his balls. Your mouth waters, but you figure that can wait another day. His seed can be used for other things.

You flutter your lashes at him, your hand wrapping around his shaft, jerking him to hardness again. He’s got this look, contorted and pained and pleasured at the same time. You straddle his meaty thighs, your cunt lips brushing over his cockhead, and he gasps.

“W-Wait—“ he starts, choked. “It’s.. ‘S too much—“

“Then why are you hard again?” You tilt your head at him, your movements paused because he didnt give you full permission. “Don’t you want my warm, tight pussy? Don’t you want to make it to the top?”

And that gets him going, his arousal for you and power and riches. He nods, eyes rolling back as you sink down on him. The cum from his last orgasm coats your walls and makes it easier to fill yourself up, warm white streaks dripping down his cock again.

“Oh.. oh my god,” his mouth drops open, and you’ve never heard a boy so vocal. “Please… I want it, I want it!”

You know what he’s asking for. Your stilled hips are non moving, letting him stretch you and sit heavy inside your cunt. You smile, moving your hips just a bit, letting him feel your gummy walls sucking him in. His mouth is in the shape of an o, his hair messy and disoriented. He tries to grab your tits, your hips, and with a surprising force your palm strikes his cheek haughtily. He cries out, his thighs shaking, his hips thrusting up.

“No touching,” you demand. “You don’t get to do that. Give me your hands.”

He lets you take them, and you push them far over his head as you begin to work your hips harder, faster. His balls make plop plop plop-ing noises as they hit your ass, quivering and begging for you to let them empty inside you. You move down to his neck, leaving purpleish bruises over his skin, marking him as yours. You let go of his hands so you can rest your hands on his torso, and his hands move up. Not necessarily to touch, but to hover over your tits bouncing through your tight fitted shirt. You give him permission, just a moment, to squeeze the soft skin in his hands, give them a teasing, bold little slap. You breathe shakily, his cock filling you up in ways no other has. You watch as Coryo’s head tilts back, and you know he’s close.

“Gonna cum?” You taunt, your nails scraping against his chest. He groans, nodding. “Gonna fill up my tight little pussy? Cmon, give it to me, I know you want to.”

And when he spills into you, rope after rope of warm, hot cum filling you to the brim, you let out a cry. His fingers find your clit— he’s thought this through, hasn’t he? He rubs you until you’re seeing stars and clenching around his overstimulated cock with a loud sob. He moves up to kiss you hot on the mouth.

“Did I do good?” He asks.

You smile, your hand threading your hands through his hair as you both relax against each other.

“You did very good, Coryo. I’m so proud of you.”

He breathes out a chuckle, shoving his face into your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and he winces. His wound has been withstanding a lot of pressure.

“You probably want to put some ice on that.” You suggest to him. He shrugs.

“The tile was cold enough.”

#coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow x reader #Coriolanus snow x fem! reader #Coriolanus snow smut #sub! Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow fanfic #Tom blyth #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic #thg #thg fanfic #the hunger games #hunger games #hunger games fanfic #Coriolanus snow tbosas

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ghostfacd · 5 months

Text

I BET ON LOSING DOGS.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

PART TWO

summary: you were the epitome of sunshine, and coriolanus? he was like the storm, the rain, and the everything in between.

warnings: SPOILERS from the movie & book, SMUT (protected cause we wrap it before we tap it! p in v), losing virginities to each other, snow (cause he himself needs a warning), toxic relationship, coriolanus is only in it for himself, mentions of losing virginity, you practically giving everything to snow and getting zero in return

author’s note: erm this is kinda long idek where tf i was going with this, first time writing smut on this account LOL so it might be bad. also this isn’t proofread so there might be mistakes, just ignore! as always, reblogs and comments are so greatly appreciated, enjoy reading + kisses 💓

You were the epitome of the sun itself, the sparkle, the light, and most importantly, the brightness. Despite being filthy rich, you were still that sweet sunshine Y/N everyone grown to love, the heir to the Cicero family.

Coriolanus Snow hated that about you. Not only were you everything he was not, but you lived such a lavish and easy lifestyle that it made him sick. Why was he stuck eating cabbage while you were off eating the finest thin slices of meat in the Capitol made by your chefs? It wasn’t fair, it just simply wasn’t.

“Well, Coryo!” Your sickeningly sweet voice fills his ears like a mantra.

He turns around, a smirk plays on his face. “My Y/N.”

Hearing him call you his made your heart flutter. You loop your arm through his, passing through the other academy students who were engrossed in their conversations

“Finally the star pupil.” Arachne Crane says, a glass of posca in her hand. “Lovely shirt you’ve got there. What are these cunning buttons? Tesserae?”

He looked at the shirt, shrugging. “Hm? Are they? Must’ve why they reminded me of the maid’s bathroom.”

You held his hands in yours. You knew of Coriolanus’s home life, how he wasn’t so lucky like you to have a gigantic home filled with lovable parents. His mom had died during childbirth, Coryo mentioning to you once how he was supposed to have a little sister. His father—died in the hands of rebels.

“Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous.” Felix suddenly spoke up, taking a bite of the food that was currently on his plate.

“Didn’t daddy teach you table manners?.” Festus sneered, watching the other boy in disgust.

“Maybe he would have if he wasn’t so busy running the country.” Felix snapped back

Coriolanus took a deep breath in, already feeling overwhelmed by his classmates arguing.

After the announcement of the assigning of mentor to tributes, you could tell Coriolanus was upset. Although he wouldn’t let anyone see, he was visibly anxious and quite frankly, annoyed.

“I mean, cmon, how could it that I got the worst district?” Coriolanus says, head in his hands. “He hates me. He really does.”

“Who hates you Coryo?”

“Dean Highbottom! Isn’t it obvious?” He cries out, hands flinging into the air. You slightly flinch back, never seeing your boyfriend in such state. “He hates me Y/N. He adores you.”

“He doesn’t adore me,” you say, feeling like you were stepping around eggshells talking to Coriolanus.

“He does!” Coriolanus screams in anger, getting up in a hurry.

“Wait, no Coryo, I’m sorry.”

But your words aren’t enough, they’ll never be for Coriolanus Snow, so he walks out without a second thought.

- - -

The next day, Coriolanus apologizes. It’s a breathy, quick 5 second apology, but you being so you—accepted it without a second thought.

You loved Coriolanus, so it didn’t matter how much he hurt you.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

You felt quite excited, you and your boyfriend hadn’t exactly gotten to that stage in your relationship, so thinking about sharing an intimate moment with him filled you with giddiness.

His tip had entered carefully through your folds, making you slightly wince as it bullied its way to your walls.

“Coryo..” you breathe out hazily, doe eyes coming to meet his. He sucked in his breath at the sight, never has he felt anything as good as this.

He tries so hard convincing himself he doesn’t love you. That this—it meant nothing to him. He was just here for your money, your possessions as the only daughter of Cryon and Hermione Cicero. But as he felt your nails claw its way into his back, he lets out a slip, a tiny whimper that makes your head foggy.

He spilled into the condom, pulling out with a hiss. Although you told him you were clean, and it was fine if he didn’t wear one, he simply couldn’t risk it. He wasn’t going to accidentally bring in a child into the world, having no intentions of taking care of anyone besides himself—maybe Tigris, and his Grandma’am.

“I love you,” you say quietly as you sat up, watching him discard the plastic into your trash bin.

“I’m hungry, aren’t you?” He says, putting his shirt on. It kinds of pains you at his total ignorance of the intimate words you just shared, but you nod your head.

“I could use some food,” is all you say, putting on your pajamas from earlier. “What’re hungry for Coryo? I’ll ask the chef.”

- - -

Dr. Gaul and Dean Highbottom had allowed all the mentors and their tributes roam the arena for about 15 minutes, letting them think of ways to win the game.

You were talking to Bobbin, a boy from District 7 whom you’ve had become closer with these past few days.

Suddenly, the loud scream of Felix catches your attention and before you knew it, loud bombs filled the air as tall lights fell to the ground near you.

“CORYO!” You scream, coughing loudly at the dust filling your lungs.

“Quick Y/N, we don’t have time!” Sejanus screams, grabbing ahold of your hand.

“But Coryo—”

Meanwhile, a tall pole had crushed Coriolanus’s arms.

Well, he thought, this was it.

This was how he was going to die. His girlfriend and best friend hand in hand as they ran out of the arena, the sickening feeling of betrayal filled his guts.

“What’re you doing?!” One of the tributes screamed at Lucy Gray, who was struggling to get the giant metal off Coriolanus’s arm. “Run while you can you idiot!”

But she doesn’t bother, only focusing on getting Coriolanus out. And she does, successfully, before all went black.

- - -

“Coryo? Oh Coryo!” You say, hugging him softly to ensure you weren’t hurting him.

You had felt so guilty after everything had happened. You should’ve never ran off with Sejanus, Coriolanus was your boyfriend, you should’ve saved him.

“Is Lucy Gray okay?” Is the first thing he croaks out, which makes your heart slightly crack.

“She’s—she’s okay Coryo.” You say, brushing a few blonde curls out of his eyes.

“And where were you?” He says, gaze slowly turning into anger. “I was going to die, Y/N.”

“I know! I was going to—”

He cut you off. “But you didn’t, now did you?”

His bitterness towards you makes you want to cry, tears already forming at your lash line.

“Oh now you’re crying?” It seemed like everything you did seemed of inconvenience to Coriolanus, but he opens his arms, letting you reside in them as you let out a few tears. “Always the crybaby, Y/N.” He says, hand holding your head as you buried your face into his chest.

- - -

Coriolanus Snow never believed in love. Not when he used to look at his mother and father when they were still alive, and not when he found himself a girlfriend, you.

Your relationship was merely another step stone towards success, Coriolanus viewed it. You were the heir of your family, you had countless amounts of money, and you were easily fooled by his advances. To Coriolanus, he had hit the jackpot, regardless of loving you or not.

So why did he feel so weird watching you interact with Sejanus? Sure, he considered the former district 2 boy his best friend, but it was only because Clemensia had been spending time at the hospital. The flu, Dr. Gaul described it; but Snow knew better. He was there when she had gotten bit by the snakes, and to be completely honest, if she hadn’t, he’d probably have dated her instead of you.

Clemensia Dovecote was way more smart, and he knew he wouldn’t fall inlove because they were both after the same thing. Power.

But with you, you were head over heels for Coriolanus. It almost made him sick, if it weren’t for your family name.

He clenched his jaw as he saw you throw your head back, hitting Sejanus’s shoulder as you hysterically laughed at something he had said.

What was so funny? Nothing was funny in the Capitol, not now. Maybe he was bitter, he should’ve never cheated in the games. It was stupid, and now he was getting the punishment of getting sent to 12 as a peacekeeper for 20 years.

Fuck, he really shouldn’t have cheated. And now he couldn’t even use his girlfriend’s family name as a way out.

He really should’ve known better. He knew you loved him, but he didn’t think you’d love him so much so that you begged your father to let you stay in 12 for a while to be with Coriolanus.

If there’s one thing about you—it’s that you’re a Daddy’s girl by heart, and of course, your father had once again served your request with a silver spoon. He hated that about you. He hated it. You got things too damn easily.

“Hi Coryo!” You say, making your way to him. Your beautiful sundress made him gulp, and he wanted nothing more but to snatch you away, pulling it off so he could get inside of you. But he couldn’t—he was in 12, much to his dismay.

“Y/N,” he says, placing his peacekeeper gun to the back. “Talking to the scums?”

“They’re just people from the district,” you say, frowning at his rudeness. “They’re nice, Coryo. Real nice, you’d like some of them.”

Coriolanus scoffs at that. How oblivious and stupid you were. Him, Coriolanus Snow, liking some of the district 12 citizens? What a fucking joke.

“Go along now Y/N, I’ll see you later.”

You nod, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek before you left, leaving the other peacekeepers to whistle at Coriolanus who only responds with an eye roll.

When later eventually comes, he was packing away the Jabberjays in their metal cages, Sejanus being right next to him.

“I saw you earlier,” Coriolanus says nonchalantly, “talking to that woman in the window. What are you playing at Sejanus?”

Sejanus scoffs, shaking his head. “They’re gonna escape Corio. Leave the districts. And I’ll be helping them.”

Coriolanus sucks in a breath, “is Y/N all in this too?”

God, he hoped Sejanus said no. But then again, it’d give him an advantage if he had said yes.

“She is,” Sejanus says, continuing to tell Coriolanus of the plan.

Without Sejanus knowing, Coriolanus had tuned the jabberjay so it could record back the whole conversation. When Sejanus finally leaves, Coriolanus sneaks to where the train bringing the birds back to the Capitol stood, placing the jabberjay in it to send it to Dr. Gaul.

If anything, Sejanus was a blocking point in Coriolanus’s way, and getting rid of him and you were like killing two birds with one stone.

- - -

The next day came and you were peacefully talking to one of the younger girls in the district when you’re suddenly pulled away along with Sejanus.

“Hey! What the hell!” You scream, thrashing in the unfamiliar peacekeeper’s hold. “Get off me!”

You and Sejanus struggle, and Coriolanus almost wants to step in and get you out of his fellow peacekeeper’s arms. Almost.

“Coryo! Tell them they’ve been mistaken!” You cry out, locking eyes with your so called lover.

“You two have been charged with treason towards the Capitol.” The peacekeeper says, his cold gaze and strong hold on you makes you let out a whimper.

“Treason?” You say, “there has to be a mistake! Call my father! Call my father!”

“I’m afraid your father can’t get you out of this one, Miss. Cicero.”

He drags you and Sejanus up the main stage of the district. “Everyone! Pay attention! This is what will happen if you are disloyal to the Capitol!”

Another peacekeeper points a gun behind Sejanus’s back as the peacekeeper who was holding you earlier pokes your back with the cold metal. You felt terrified gazes of the citizens of District 12, including Lucy Gray, stare at you.

“CORYO! TELL THEM!” You scream, begging with your eyes. “Coryo, please. Please.”

But Coriolanus Snow stands still in his spot, not budging a thing.

You thought he had loved you—or at least, cared for you. You gave him shelter when he was at his worst, you gave him your virginity, you held him when he cried about how unfair Dean Highbottom was, you let him into your home, and you always were there for him. You practically did everything for Coriolanus Snow. And what did you get? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Your Coryo won’t save you.” The peacekeeper snarls, before firing the gun.

Two gunshots go off, and the body of yours and Sejanus fall to the ground in an instant.

Coriolanus Snow almost wants to barf, his eyes closed for a minute before reopening them again.

Had it really been worth it? Ratting you and Sejanus out so he could get home to the Capitol faster?

He thinks so when your family and the Plinths give him their fortune as a thank you for being such a good boyfriend and friend towards their son and daughter.

If only they knew, though. But Coriolanus would never let that happen, because no matter what, Snow lands on top.

And this? It was just the beginning.

#coriolanus is so mitski coded if he wasn’t a launtic #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #hunger games x reader #the hunger games x reader #ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine

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pawnshopbleus · 5 months

Text

On Top

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Plinth!Reader

Warnings - Smut, Penis in vagina sex, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Abortion is mentioned once, Angst with a happy ending. Not beta read :0

Authors Note - I think this is the first time I’ve written p in v sex so please bear with me.

Standing in front of the door to the Snow residence, you made sure you had everything. The basket you brought over for Coriolanus and his family was filled with food, gifts, and roses for Grandma’am. You wanted to celebrate Coriolanus’s historic win in this year's Hunger Games. Well, Lucy Grey won, but she wouldn’t have done without your Coriolanus.

Your knuckles tapped the door three times and you patently waited until the door opened to reveal Grandma’am’s signature snow-white hair. She smiled at you and embraced you. She stepped aside and let you enter the home you had become so familiar with over the years.

“Grandma’am, I wanted to bring this little gift for Coriolanus’s big win. The flowers are for you, by the way,” you winked and placed the basket on the table. “Speaking of, where might he be.”

Grandma’am's eyes softened at your comment. “He’s with the dean,” she said, “He will be here any moment. You can wait for him in his room if you’d like.” Grandma’am rushed over to examine a particularly pretty white rose.

You sat on Coriolanus’s bed tracing hearts on his pillow for what seemed like hours before his door opened. He looked frantic as if someone found out something they weren’t supposed to find.

“Come on, Coryo, you’re supposed to be smiling. Lucy Grey won. Aren’t you happy?”

“I cheated,” he sighed.

Your heart stopped. He what? Never in a million years did you think that he would do such a thing. With strong women like Tigris and Grandma’am raising him, you would have thought that he had the decency to break up with a woman before he did that.

Coriolanus shook his head as soon as he realized that you might have been taking his comment in the wrong way. “I cheated in the games. Not on you. I would never do that.”

Your body relaxed and then it shot back up again. “Wait, what do you mean you cheated in the games? Is that even possible?”

Coriolanus explained what he did in order to get Lucy Grey to win. The compact mirror that used to belong to his mother had been packed with rat poison, poisonous to anyone who came in contact with it. He also put his father's handkerchief which was covered in Lucy Grey's scent in the snake's cage. If the snakes were familiar with her scent then they wouldn’t kill her. So it wasn’t her singing that saved her, it was Coriolanus.

“What are they going to do to you?” Your eyebrows scrunched together with worry. You couldn’t lose Coriolanus for his stupid, yet chivalrous actions.

“I don’t know yet. I don’t want to think about the future. Right now, I want to live in the moment with the prettiest girl in all of Panem.” Coriolanus smiled at how your face heated up so quickly, but deep down he was hurting. He knew what his punishment was. Twenty years of service as a peacekeeper in the Districts. He would leave the Capital and everything he’s known since he was a baby. That he could deal with, but losing you would be the hardest thing he would have to deal with.

He knew that you would run to your father and beg him to get Coriolanus out of serving, but he didn’t want you over-exhausting your father's resources. He was a big boy and he needed to learn how to deal with his consequences. He would be fine. After all, Snow lands on top.

He wanted to live in this moment with you. He wanted to memorize every inch of your body. He wanted to hold onto that memory and make it last.

Your smile calmed him. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, eyes focused on your lips.

You nodded your head and smiled into the kiss. It was soft and sensual, vastly different from the kisses that the two of you usually share. Your lips brushed together as your bodies got closer to each other. By the time the two of you broke apart, you were under him, his forearms caging you underneath him. There was no need for him to do that. This is where you wanted to be, with Coriolanus. The toxic and tyrannical world that you lived in was long forgotten as she swooped in for another kiss.

His lips traveled down to your cheek, then your jaw, and settled on your neck. He spent the majority of his time kissing and nibbling at the skin on your neck. There would be pretty little marks on your skin later, reminding people that you belonged to him. Coriolanus doesn’t remember when he got this territorial, but he sure loved the fact that Strabo Plinth’s beautiful daughter was his girlfriend. His girlfriend to mark and fuck and love whenever he wanted (with your consent of course.)

You laughed as Coriolanus licked the sensitive patches of skin that he nibbled raw. “My parents are going to kill me when they see what you’ve done.”

Coriolanus kissed your lips one more time in response to your comment. He then resumed his exploration of your body. His hands traveled down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to reveal the bra that he unclasped in less than five seconds. He threw it on the floor of his bedroom, letting it get hooked onto the pile of books in the corner.

Coriolanus kissed in between the valley of your breasts. He flicked his tongue over your sensitive nipples. It was cold in the Capital of Panem and unfortunately, the Snow’s didn’t have indoor heating. Maybe it was because they didn’t want to melt.

You sighed in pleasure as Coriolanus continued to explore your breasts. After five minutes of teasing, he began to travel south to the part where you needed him the most. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of your pants, “may I?”

You nodded, “Ever the gentleman.”

With your permission, he ripped your pants off of you and threw them on the floor. They were lost in the pile of clothing that had gathered on the floor. Coriolanus had shed some of his clothing as well. His ripped body was adorned in nothing but his white underwear.

Coriolanus spread your legs apart, “Look at how wet my girl is.” He traced a finger down the cotton of your underwear and slowly slid it up your legs. He wanted to drag this on as much as possible. You let out a grumble of frustration, getting tired of his constant teasing. Coriolanus gave in and got rid of your underwear.

The same finger that was used to skim the fabric of your underwear was now being used to gather your slick and spread it across your sensitive pussy. You took a deep breath of air into your lungs. The feeling was new, but not unwelcomed. Coriolanus flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. Your clit was pulsing with need. You needed Coriolanus to drop the act and eat you out like he was a starving man.

“Coriol-” Your word was cut off by a moan as his mouth did exactly what you wanted it to do. Coriolanus delved into your pussy, tracing shapes onto your clit with his tongue. Your back arched off of the bed again. Coriolanus’s fingers teased your hole, trying to find the perfect time to ease into your channel.

Coriolanus’s fingers weren’t thick, but they were long making it easier for him to tease your G-spot. He fucked his fingers in and out of you as he sucked your clit. You had to bite your lip in order to keep quiet. Your lips were sure to be chewed raw after this, but they would serve as a reminder that you had a man who was willing to do this for you. Many high-society women told stories about their husbands not pleasuring them when they had sex. It sounded like a horrible life to lead, but they were rich and beautiful so they needed to sacrifice something.

Coriolanus curled his fingers up, letting them knock against your G-spot. He continued to kiss and lick at your clit. You were close. By the way you were clenching down on his fingers, he could tell that the waterworks were coming. Your naked chest rose and fell as you played with your nipples, increasing the pleasure that you felt. Your head fell even deeper into the pillow as a chill ran down your body. That chill eventually led to where Coriolanus was currently still working. He ate your pussy like a starved man, just the way you liked it.

Without warning, your juices painted Coriolanus’s face. He wasn’t surprised that you came so fast. The last time you had sex was two months ago. You were burning for him and he was burning for you.

Coriolanus wiped his face with the back of his hand and laughed. That was the first time he had actually made you squirt. It had always been a personal goal of his after Tirgis explained to Coriolanus how a woman's body works. At first, he was traumatized. He didn’t want to have the sex talk with his dear cousin, but when he laid eyes on you for the time, he wanted to do everything Tigris said and more.

His cock was hard. You could see the outline of it through his white underwear. You would tease him about his tighty whities later. Right now, you were laser-focused on the fact that Coriolanus hooked his thumbs under his waistband and lowered them, exposing his cock to the cold air. His hard cock slapped against his lower stomach. He jerked his cock off, spreading his precum all over his length. He wanted to make sure that it went in as smoothly as possible. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you.

He lined himself up at your core. He slid his tip up and down your pussy, gathering your slick with his dick before he pushed into you. Your insides welcomed him with little to no problem. The stretch felt good. You were all slicked up and ready for him.

Contraceptives weren’t a problem for you. Coriolanus was always careful and made sure to come somewhere that wasn’t your vagina. You didn’t want to have a kid just yet. First, you wanted to study at the University and travel back to District Two if you were given the chance. Then you wanted to get married. Pereferabbly to Coriolanus, but you didn’t know if that was possible yet. With his fate still undecided, your plans to marry the love of your life dwindled. Besides, even if you were to get pregnant your father would have enough money to get you an abortion

Coriolanus’s head fell forward as he buried his cock in your tight pussy. Two months and he had forgotten how good you felt. Your insides fluttered around him as he bottomed out.

Coriolanus began to thrust his cock in and out of you. He was methodical with everything he did. Coriolanus set a rhythm as he fucked into you. He fucked you hard and fast. The side of his bed slapped against the wall and his mattress cracked and groaned as he fucked into you. You prayed to the heavens that Grandma’am and Tigris were in a deep sleep. Or that the walls of the Snow residence were thicker than Coriolanus’s cock.

Coriolanus peppered your mouth with kisses in order to muffle your moans. He kept his pace as he did this. Your breasts jiggled as he fucked into you. Your hands found their way down to your extra-sensitive clit. You circled it with your fingers and moaned in pleasure at the feeling.

His balls slapped against your ass as his strokes became more deep and labored. He was going to come soon. He needed to come soon. He couldn’t hold on much longer. Two months with no sex had gotten to him. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as your pussy clenched around him. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his voice was strained from trying to keep his composure.

“Inside me,” you said. You were close too, the feeling of your finger frantically rubbing your clit and the feeling of Coriolanus's cock buried deep inside of you spurred your orgasm to come out from the woodwork.

You have come a second time, your pussy fluttering and squeezing Coriolanus cock that was still inside of you. A string of curses fell from Coriolanus’s lips as he came inside of you. His pulsing and throbbing cock pushed his come deep inside of you as he continued to fuck you as he came. His thrusts were slow but intentional. He would have lasted a few more seconds, but with the way that your pussy squeezed his sensitive cock, he came instantly.

Coriolanus slowly eased his cock out of you. The both of you were breathing heavily as Coriolanus went to grab a towel from his closet. He eased your legs open one more time as he cleaned you up. He was slow and gentle with it. He knew that you were still sensitive after two orgasms.

His come eased out of you and onto the towel. The sight almost caused him to get hard, but he didn’t feel like tiring you out even more.

Once he was done cleaning you up, he tucked you into his chest and covered the two of you with the blankets on his bed. He kissed your forehead and your cheek. Coriolanus’s love language was kissing. He loved kissing you. He loved doing anything with you, but kissing was his favorite.

Your eyes closed, but you weren’t falling asleep. Not yet. Sex might have been a clever distraction, but now that you were coming off your high you needed to know what will happen to the future of your relationship.

“Coryo, what is going to happen to you? I know that you know what your punishment is. I'm not stupid.”

Coriolanus sighed as he tried to keep his voice from waving. He rarely cried, but in moments like these, he did. Just you and him shielded away from the rest of the Capital were his favorite. “Twenty years as a peacekeeper.”

You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to cry. Your body ran cold as you repeated those words in your mind. Twenty years as a peacekeeper. Twenty years without your Coriolanus. Your Coryo.

“My dad can-”

“No,” Coriolanus said. “I don’t want your dad to get me out of this one. I need to learn how to do things on my own.”

“What if I had a crazy elaborate plan to get you out of it?”

“Nothing could be crazier than this.” Coriolanus got this crazy idea. It has been sitting in the back of his mind ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend. “Marry me?”

This isn’t how he wanted to propose to you. He had already gotten your father's approval months ago. You were perfect for him and you deserve a perfect proposal. He wanted to take you to a fancy restaurant, get down on one knee, and ask you that way. Traditional and expected of Capital people, but things never go as planned when you’re a Snow.

“Seriously?” You were in disbelief. Of course, you wanted to marry him, but this all seemed a bit rushed. “I mean, yes, I’ll marry you, but Coryo. You’re about to leave.” Then, your brilliant mind comes up with the perfect plan.

You’ll marry Coriolanus, making him one of the heirs to the Plinth fortune. Thus making him more valuable to the Capital. This way you get to marry the love of your life and keep him within arms reach. Were you being possessive? Maybe, but it was better than the dean having to deal with an angry Plinth.

And your plan worked. You and Coriolanus got married a week after he proposed to you. It was a bit rushed, but the two of you were ready. He was going to be a loving husband, and you, a loving wife. Coriolanus’s punishment would be reduced to two months of training in District Two. He would then return to the Capital as a peacekeeper. He would keep the peace during the day and return to you at night.

Turns out Snow does land on top.

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Time to study up on straight people sex!

#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games

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papercorgiworld · 5 months

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Apologies and love confessions

The Slytherins guy’s are jealous because you have a date. When your date flops, they show up: to make up or make out, or both…

General story introduction and then you pick your favourite Slytherin. Or all of them, I won’t judge.

Theo, Blaise, Enzo, Draco and Mattheo.

Warning: a little bit of smut bc of Enzo and Mattheo ofc.

Not proofread, so if a sentence hurts your brain, my apologies. Let me know and safe an innocent reader.

After months of not writing, I present you… whatever this is.

You took one last look in the mirror and turned to your friends, Pansy and Hermione. “Acceptable?” You asked sheepishly. “More than acceptable.” Hermione smiled. “Hot.” Pansy bluntly stated.

It was a late Saturday afternoon as you made your way to the great hall to meet your date. A few days ago, Neal - a Ravenclaw one year older than you - had asked you out. You hadn’t talked much but all of your friends liked him and he wasn’t bad looking. As you almost reached the great hall you ran into the notorious Slytherin boys. When you spotted them you wanted to turn on your heels, but Enzo already called for you. “Y/n, you’re looking fine.” He slurred the last word a bit as he looked you up and down. Your cheeks went red as all the guys stared. “Ah, your date’s today, right?” Blaise asked nonchalantly. You nodded, getting a little nervous. “What was his name again? Dirk… Dean?” Draco asked with his usual voice filled with arrogance and annoyance. His eyebrows went up and down as he leaned against a wall with his arms crossed. “Neal. And I should be going.” You blurted. Theodore was slow to move aside and you passed him, his eyes never leaving you. As you walked away you could hear Mattheo snicker and your heart sank.

Up until recently you had gotten along with them just fine. You were Pansy’s friend and by association also theirs. Just like you were Ron and Harry’s friend because of your friendship with Hermoine. However, there was a difference. You always wanted to be liked by the Slytherin guys, or just by one. Unfortunately, ever since you mentioned you were going on a date they had collectively decided to ridicule your every move. Making you feel terribly insecure.

***

Your date flopped. Neal was a great guy. Accept for the fact that he was obviously still hung up on his ex-girlfriend. When you entered the Three Broomsticks and chose a table near a window, he told you his ex liked to sit by the window too. When you ordered drinks, Neal told you his ex didn’t like your choice of drink. When he mentioned her for a third time, you fell silent and gave him a tight lipped smile. Oh Merlin. This was the worst.

After a little over an hour you said your awkward goodbyes. You started to walk back to Hogwarts, dreading the idea of telling your friends about your date or worse all those other gossiping people finding out.

As you arrived at the courtyard the ones you wanted to avoid most were there. You tried to subtly speed walk past them. This time it was Mattheo who was first to speak. “Y/n! You’re back early.” You simply sighed and Mattheo smirked. “How long were you gone? Didn’t even last two hours.” Mattheo turned to Theodore who let out a short laugh. Pansy who sat next to Enzo shot up and started yelling. “Oi, shut it!” Your friend took your arm to guide you away from them, towards the castle. “Pay up, Blaisy-boy. Not even two hours, so I win.” You heard Riddle say and you shot one last look at them, seeing how Blaise grimaced and reached inside his pockets to pay up. You were nothing more than a joke to them.

Pansy held onto your arm while you walked towards your common room. Hermoine spotted you from afar and pushed Ron and Harry aside to get to you. “So how was i…” Hermoine’s question was cut of my Pansy aggressive signal to shut up. “So, should we hex him?” Hermoine suggested as she saw that your eyes were welling up with tears. “No, it’s not him. I mean it was a bad date. But, so what. No biggie. But those, those, those… twats! They, they are the worst!” You yell, attracting the attention of students nearby. Hermoine looks over to Pansy with a confused look. “Will hex all five of them.” Pansy said and Hermoine caught on, she knew exactly which five morons you were talking about.

You nodded and sighed. “I need a moment alone. I’m going up to the astronomy tower for some quiet time.” Your friends were understanding and you left.

Theodore

“This is my hang-out.” Theodore says, pulling you out of your train of thoughts. “This is the spot people go to when they’re sad. If this is your hang-out, then that says a lot about you.” Theo halts for a moment, feeling a little exposed by your analysis, but joins you nevertheless, his arms resting on the railing. You notice how he plays with a cigarette between his fingers. “I won’t light it. I know you don’t like it when I smoke.” You raise your eyebrows. “I also don’t like it when you ridicule me, but that’s never stopped you or your merrie band of delinquents from mocking me.” Now, it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

He’s about to open his mouth and give you some lame excuse for his behavior, but you stare at him with unimpressed eyes. So, he closes his mouth and lets out a nervous laugh. He takes a step back from the railing and throws his hands up in surrender. “I’ll admit, I’ve not been on my best behavior the past week.” Now, he has your full attention. You wanna hear what he has to say. “But neither have you.” He points to you and you scoff, no longer wanting to listen. “Going on a date with… what’s his name again. Of course everyone’s laughing.” You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Unbelievable.” You sigh.

“How about you go out with me? No one will laugh.” When you didn’t immediately respond he tried to sell the idea a little. “I’ll tell Matt and the others to behave. No more mocking.” You tilt your head in amusement to his suggestion. This guy, unbelievable. “You can do that, tell them to behave?” Theo takes a step closer towards you, leaving no space between you two. “Uhu.” He absentmindedly breathes while his hand softly caresses your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “And will you behave?” You ask, subtly taunting him. “I’ll be good.” He says softly and licks his lip.

“I’ll think about it.” You say taking a step and putting some distance between you two. But Theo quickly reaches for your arm, pulling you back towards him. “Don’t play with me.” As soon as you look into his eyes, his lips are on yours. The kiss is filled with longing, his thumb brushing your cheek as he pulls you in. Theo pushes you against the railing, never breaking the kiss. Your hand finds their way to his messy hair. The more you tug on one another and push into each other, the sloppier the kiss gets. He squeezes your ass and as a reflex you gently buck your hips into him. “Fuck.” He growls. You smile at his reaction and seize the moment to push him away.

Walking past him, you never take your eyes off the confused man. “I’m looking forward to that date.”

Blaise

“I lost a bet because of you.” Blaise says with a loud voice while he’s still on the stairs almost at the top, but still out of sight. You turn towards the stairs waiting for him to arrive. “I mean really, not even two hours.” “No.” You cross your arms in annoyance. “I mean you're annoying sometimes, but-“ You shove his shoulder. “I was not annoying! I AM never annoying. I’m a blessing to be around.” He raises his eyebrows, but you ignore him and continue your rant. “You! You on the other hand are frankly unbelievably childish!” You poke his chest, being more than a little shocked at how muscular he is, but you push that thought aside. “Betting on my misery, have you no shame!”

He spreads his arms in defense. “Well, that was Mattheo’s idea. No morals, that guy.” You raise an eyebrow in response. Just Mattheo. Think not. All of you, you’re a bunch of demon children. “You joined in.” You throw at him, like a lawyer making their case. “And lost.” Blaise says sheepishly. “Don’t be mad at me. I lost money, my day is already bad enough.” You turn on your heels, away from him. “Well what about my shitty day.”

“Ah, about that, your shitty day, I can make it better.” In a split second you’re facing him again, eyes shining with curiosity. “This better be good, Zabini.” He simply grinned. “There’s this guy, who’s been into you for months now. Incredibly hot. Sixpack and everything. Really into quidditch, a bit of a jock, but also really likes wizard chess and magic history. And has a soft side, secretly loves to watch muggle-movies. That’s some boyfriend material, uh?” You’ve been nodding along searching for the catch.

“What’s the catch, Zabini, no dude’s that good. Definitely not one that happens to have a thing for me.” He smiles as takes a step closer. “He would like to ask you out. So.. what do y’say?” You drop your head and shake no. “I’m not going out with him until you tell me what the catch is.” “Fineee, the catch is… he’s me.” You frown in confusion. “You, Blaise Zabini, want to go out with me?” A nervous and adorable smile appears on his face. “Yeah, and I would like it to last longer than two hours.” You give his shoulder a little push. “Depends, are you going to talk about your ex the entire time?” “What? That’s how Dirk ruined your date? What a git.” His name was Neal, but whatever. I got a new and better date.

Enzo

Enzo has his back against the railing. His eyes trace your face. “Didn’t go well did it?” Your eyes meet his and he sees your forehead wrinkle at his stupid question. “Well, look on the bright side. You’re back on the market.” You shift yourself so you’re leaning against the railing with your side and facing Enzo. “I was never off the market. I went on one date.” He also shifted so he’s facing you. “Yeah, you’re right. I was overreacting. I shouldn’t have worried so much.” You look confused at him, but he doesn’t immediately explain. “Why were you worried?”

“Well, uhm, you know, maybe you would’ve liked him.” He tried his best to sound casual, but you could tell he was a little nervous. You took a small step towards him. “Why would that be a bad thing?” He huffed like the answer was obvious. “Because it’s wrong to ask out a girl who's dating.” You frown. “You’ve lost me, Enzo, I don’t follow.”

“Wait, wait. This will clear it up.” He closes the space between you two and cups your cheek. What followed was the softest kiss ever. After a moment you both opened your eyes, but didn’t move away from each other. “See, I couldn’t have done that if you were dating Neal.” You nodded. “I follow.” You brushed your lips over his. A cheeky smile covered his face. “You know, if you’re interested… there are a lot of things we can do now that it’s just you and me.” “Care to give an example.”

“My pleasure.” Is all he says before his hands find their way to your hips lifting you up. Your legs tangle around him as he pushes you against a wall. The cold stone makes you arch into him. His mouth nips on the flesh of your neck. “You and I should go on a date.” Enzo breathes in between kisses. “You two need to find a room.” You're both startled by Neville’s sudden appearance. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Enzo says, looking at you with lust. “Mine or yours?” You ask as you lick your bottom lip.

Draco

You sighed, letting the view and silence calm you. Suddenly you hear footsteps and when you look up Draco’s walking towards you with his usual flair. “What a tool, that Neal-guy. Taking you to the Three Broomsticks.” You roll your eyes and look away from him. “You should’ve known, a guy like him is no good.” Before he opens his mouth again you whip your head around towards him, eyes ready to kill. “He’s no good? Neal’s not the problem. You are! You’re no good, with you mocking and ridiculing. You’ve been acting like a total ass the last few days! So get lost, Malfoy!”

Draco remains quiet for a moment. The frown on his face grows as he realizes his jealousy might have taken the upper hand these past few days. Falling back in his normal composure, his hands reach for the cold railing as he comes to stand next to you. “I just didn’t think it was a good idea. You, going out with him. You need someone who buys you a dress and takes you to a fancy place.” When you look up at him in confusion, he continues staring in front of him. “I think you deserve better.” You huff, indulging his lame excuse for his behavior. “Know any guy like that?” You blurt out thinking back to your miserable date.

Draco inspects the rings on his fingers as he searches for the courage to say what he so badly wanted to say these last couple of days. “Me.” He says so quietly you almost didn’t hear, but you did and you look up at him with wide eyes. Where is this going? “I would like to take you somewhere fancy. Spoil you.” You let out a laugh and he immediately snaps at you. “No, need to laugh. A simple ‘no thanks’ would have sufficed.” You press your lips together and take a step towards him. The scowl on his face falls when your hand reaches for his tie, gently playing with it. “I think I’m going to take you up on that offer, Malfoy.” Your face inches towards him and his lips brush yours.

The kiss immediately becomes more passionate and his hand tangles in your hair holding you in place. His other hand snakes to the small of your back pulling you close. You whimper softly at the feeling of your bodies against one another. This gives him the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss even more. You break apart to catch your breath, but you stay close. “You were jealous, weren’t you?” Draco scoffs. “Not. It’s simply a matter of principle. Classy women belong with classy men.” You roll your eyes. “Draco, kiss more, talk less.” He huffs in annoyance, but obliges.

Mattheo

“I told you so.” Mattheo’s voice sang as he approached you. You didn’t turn around, instead you just rolled your eyes. “That guy just wasn’t for you. Don’t be so upset about it.” You shook your head. What’s he even doing here? Shouldn’t he be laughing behind your back with friends? When you stayed quiet Mattheo got worried and his tone softened. “He didn’t hurt you or anything? ‘Caus I’ll deal with him. He’ll never bother you again.” Okay that’s it, Riddle. You angrily grab onto the railing you were leaning on before turning around fuming. “He didn’t hurt me. He was just boring. But you on the other hand, you hurt me with your constant mockery. So why don’t you punch yourself in the face and stop bothering me.” Mattheo looked away from you for a moment, making you think he actually felt bad. But when he looked back up, he was back to being his cocky self. “Can’t punch this pretty face.” He said, pointing at himself, grinning.

You turned away from him, hoping that he would leave. You couldn’t see it but his face fell again, really feeling bad about hurting you with his stupid jokes. “I just knew he wasn’t the guy for you.” No reaction from you. “Look, we can split my win from the bet with Blaise.” You let your head fall, looking at him from the corner of your eyes. The audacity. He came to stand next to you and also rested his arms on the railing. “I know, I can be an ass sometimes. So, just tell me, love, how do I make this right.” Your eyes meet his, you’re surprised by his gesture. “I guess it’s alright. I’m a forgiving soul.” He turns away from the view, towards you and lays a hand on the small of your back. “No, don’t be forgiving. I’ll do anything to make this right.”

He uses his body language to make it clear that he’s willing to do anything to make it up to you, shuffling closer, leaning into you and licking his lips suggestively. “Are you really trying to seduce me into forgiving you?” You ask not believing that that’s the best he can come up with. “Well no, love, I’m going to fuck you into forgiving me.” This man. Who does he think he is… well, the dark lord’ son, but still. Unbelievable. Mattheo falls to his knees, his hands moving from your back, sliding over your ass to your legs. He looks up at you with soft eyes before gently pushing your skirt up. This man… should be my future husband. Mattheo places soft kisses on your thight, slowly getting closer to your panties.

You close your eyes and let out a soft moan as he gently tugs down your panties. “If we get caught up here. I’m never going to forgive you.” He places a featherlight kiss between your legs and you instinctively reach for his curls. “Are you sure? Because I think I’m really excelling at apologizing, don’t you think so, love?” Damn you, Riddle. You’re good, and you know it.

#theodore nott #blaise zabini #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini x reader #enzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #draco malfoy x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin #theodore nott imagine #enzo berkshire imagine #draco malfoy imagine #mattheo riddle imagine #blaise zabini imagine #papercorgiworldwritings

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castielsparkle · 1 year

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dean winchetser. question mom and question dad. if history could set you free from. who you were supposed to be. if sex in our society. didnt tell a girl who she would be. cause allll myyy liiifeee iiiiveee trieedddd toooo findndd whatt his-tor-y. has. given. me.

#cas.txt #its about the.#Sold my soul and yeah the truth hurt.#tired image of a star acting naughtier than we really are.#its just. im gonna bite something down right now.#dean winchester and sex and destiny (unrelated) is just god its so yeah #sex sex sex sex sex sex sex all my life ive felt it deep inside of me all this time was fighting for what i believe #all my life ive tried to find hide what history has given me #mmeeeee #if sex in our society didnt tella guy who he souhld be....#OH he is transgender by the way i need you guys to like know this in your soul he is a transgender man. he is #he really is #i almost forgot to mention i see this through the lens of dean is a trans man because i forgot its not widely accepted canon. Oops

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tomriddleslove · 3 months

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Omg I have a THEODORE NOTT request for you

Super duper angst hurt comfort

Theo’s dad basically hurts the reader and sends her back to Theo as a warning to stay away from such mudbloods and its just heart wrenching guilt and hurt and tending to her wounds through treat

Song: Half a Man by dean lewis perhaps?

I already have.

✩Theodore Nott x Reader (request)

Summary: The one where Theo has the one person he loves the most hurt by his worst nightmare. Alternatively: He thinks he’d rather die than see you in pain.

A/N: I DID MANAGE TO DO IT BY TODAY!!! I’ll be responding to the next few requests soon. You said comfort but didn’t specify a happy ending 😺

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse, blood.

Theodore Nott never expected to fall in love.

It seemed rather bleak for him, to be honest. He didn’t have the time to think about love when he was too busy wrapped up in navigating the life he had ahead of him.

One couldn't blame him though. With his family as the only example of what love could be, he certainly didn't have a good impression.

Theodore couldn’t recall a single time when he had seen his father treat his mother with kindness or respect.

Let alone love? A truly laughable notion.

Theodore's father had not shown a single ounce of love to his wife, or Theodore. Even on that godforsaken day when Theodore had witnessed his mother die, his father had simply delivered a swift strike to his face and told him to ‘man up.’

So to put it simply, The absence of love in his family cast a shadow over his perception of relationships, making it difficult for him to fathom the idea of falling in love himself.

Then you came.

You came, and god, Theodore doesn't remember how he lived without you. It wasn’t a whirlwind love, a sort of fell fast and hard, rather you entered his life like a slow and steady rain, seeping through the foundations of Theodore's life till you had consumed them completely, crumbling them down against his own will.

It rained, and you became the quiet storm, soft yet unyielding.

Love came like the easiest thing when he met you. It wasn't foreign, or a distant concept; instead, it felt like the most natural and effortless occurrence in Theodore's life. Love with you was as simple and uncomplicated as breathing, a seamless rhythm that he hadn't known was missing until you came along.

You were more than shocked when Theodore admitted he didn’t think he could ever fall in love. The boy, who loved you as though he was born to (he argues he was), who would so tenderly kiss your forehead and hold your hand, not capable of love? The one who would leave his coat for you during the winter months and bring a spare scarf because, he knew you were stubborn, and he was worried you'd get sick, not deserving of love?

You kissed him deeply and made him swear he'd never think of that ever again.

You reminisced on Theodore like some sort of lovesick fool separated by war from their lover, though it was merely only the summer holidays. Whilst Theodore would want nothing more than to come with you, his father demanded his presence back at home. You knew little about Theodore's mother, and even less about his father. Anything leading up to a conversation about them would simply result in Theodore immediately redirecting the conversation, becoming a tad more guarded for the next day or so.

It’s not that he didn’t trust you, because he wholeheartedly did. He would place his beating heart in your hands even if you had a knife in the other, for he trusted you that much.

No, in fact, it was the very opposite. Theodore knew you, and he refused to let you ever get involved in that part of his life. He swore he would never let his father even lay his eyes on you.

He would have loved for his mother to have met you. He doesn't remember her that well, but he's sure, some sort of instinctive feeling within him, that she would have loved you.

You had been back in Hogsmeade a mere 2 days before school had started, to stockpile on some supplies for school.

Students were permitted to start returning to Hogwarts three days before school began, and you would always go back early, valuing having the near-empty castle. It meant you could settle back into a school routine comfortably, and have some time alone before school resumes.

It also gave you time to do stuff for Theodore. You didn't know much about what went on at his house, but assuming from the way he’d come back absolutely exhausted with bags under his eyes, you figured it wasn't good.

It seemed to be the same routine almost every time you'd come back - he comes over to your dorm (luckily for you, all your dormmates essentially lived in their boyfriend's dorms, as they were all friends with one another, so you had it all to yourself 99% of the time). He’d kiss you hello and wordlessly take off his shoes and jacket. You’d lie on your bed and he’d come lie on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He would rest his head on your chest, the sound of your heartbeat soothing him, as he listened to you talk about your holidays till he fell asleep, feeling safe for the first time, unburdened by his worries.

He’d sleep, and you'd trace the furrow of his brow. You ached for the ability to just, alivieate him of everything he carried so close to him. But you knew that healing was a long journey, and you'd be there for him on the way.

You wander around a little bookstore, finding a book for you and Theodore to read. You paid for the copy, turning to leave the shop when you bump into a man.

You quickly offered a polite apology, even though his cold gaze and disdainful demeanour sent a chill down your spine.

Those eyes. They were oh so familiar to the very striking eyes of the boy you so loved. Come to think of it, the hair was the same too. Was this…..

"Watch where you're going, girl," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain

You clenched your jaw, swallowing the anger that threatened to surface. Keeping your composure, you replied evenly, "I apologize if I inconvenienced you, sir."

His eyes then flickered to the books in your hands, a sceptical look crossing his face. "You are a student at Hogwarts? What year?" he sneered.

You took a deep breath before responding, "Final year, sir."

Seeing an opportunity to shift the dynamics, you gestured towards Theodore's family resemblance. "You must be Theodore's father. The resemblance is striking."

His eyes narrowed, and he asked with an air of suspicion, "How do you know Theodore?"

You hesitated for a moment but decided to be honest. "We're dating."

Theodore's father raised an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and derision on his face. "Dating, are you?" he scoffed. "Tell me, girl, who are your parents? Perhaps I've heard of them."

A small smile tugs at your lips as you shake your head, responding. "I doubt you would know them. They're Muggles."

His expression darkened, and a look of pure contempt appeared on his face. "Muggles? Muggles?" He snarls, taking a step closer to you.

Theodore's father's face contorted with disgust, and his voice dripped with venom as he continued, "You, a pathetic Muggle, dare to pollute my son's bloodline? You're nothing but filth, tarnishing the Nott family name with your presence."

You felt a surge of anger and fear. This is what Theodore was trying to keep from you. That his family were prejudiced against your very existence.

Without warning, he roughly grabbed your arm, his grip tightening painfully. The pain shot through you, and you winced.

"Listen closely, Mudblood," he hissed, tightening his hold. "You're nothing more than a passing fancy for my son. If you have any sense, you'll sever ties with him before you bring further shame upon yourself."

Without a second to let you answer, he releases his grip on you, spinning on his heel as he storms out of the store. It takes you a second to recuperate and process what the fuck had just gone on before you turn and quickly dash out of the store, trying to catch a glimpse of his father. Sure enough, you spot him disappearing down a narrow alley.

Before you can stop to think, you chase after him, shouting as you do.

“Hey!” You snap, closing in on the distance.

Theodore was correct in one thing. He knew you well. And he knew that if you ever knew of his father, you’d get involved.

His father’s long black cloak billowed behind him, disappearing down a narrow alleyway that seemed to swallow his wrath. Fueled by a mixture of hurt and anger, you hurried after him, determined to address the injustice he had just unleashed.

Desperation laced your anger-fuelled shouts as you closed the distance. His brisk pace showed no signs of slowing, and as you reached out to grab his arm, the narrowness of the alley made it easy for him to turn around swiftly.

"How dare you touch me, you wretched Mudblood!" he hissed, his eyes ablaze with hatred.

Before you could react, he unleashed a hex.

It hit you with an intensity that sent a shockwave of pain radiating through your body. The force of the curse flung you backwards, and you collided with the cold stone wall, gasping for breath. A searing pain radiates throughout your body, and you cough, looking down. It was akin to some sort of slash, as though he had hit you with an invisible thing, a clean cut on your thigh, and arm. You see a drop of blood drip down onto your skirt and, dazed, bring your hand up to your face. You feel something wet, and when you pull your hand back it has a crimson red glistening on your fingertips, and-

oh.

There was a cut on your face too.

As you steadied yourself, you felt the searing pain intensify, a burning sensation spreading from the point of impact on your arm. Theodore's father approached with a malevolent satisfaction etched across his face. He looms over you, glaring down at you.

"You'd do well to heed my warning, Mudblood," he sneers, his voice low and menacing. "Stay away from my son, or next time, the consequences will be even more severe."

He cast a disdainful glance at your injured form before straightening up, his dark cloak billowing as he walked away without a second thought.

You took a deep breath, shuddering as you braced your palms against the cobblestone floor of the alleyway. You push yourself up, wincing as you try to ignore the throbbing pain in your body as you gingerly get up.

You gather your scattered belongings and look around, seeing nothing but the near-empty village. Summoning every ounce of strength, you began to limp back towards the castle, the weight of humiliation pressing down on your shoulders.

You felt exposed. The idea that Theodore had hidden such a massive thing from you, made you feel all the more humiliated.

You keep your head down and soon enough appear at Hogwarts. It doesn't give you the happiness it usually does, rather you just want to go back to your room and change, and sleep.

It was at this moment that you were rather glad that you decided to come back early, for you can only imagine the looks you'd get if it was packed full of students.

Exhausted, and simply just over it, you make your way up to the dorm. There are only two other students you spotted on the way, but they were far too busy snogging the daylights out of one another to notice you.

It reminded you of…

Theodore.

How would you face Theodore? Did you want to face Theodore?

No, you resolved, you didn’t. You couldn't comprehend keeping such a key detail from someone, let alone the person you loved. Why he did that to you, you’d never understand.

You unlock your dorm room door, dropping your bag at the door, You look up and to your utter confusion, see Theodore sitting on your bed. He looks up at you, the smile on his face very quickly replaced with a deep frown.

He gets up, and-

oh.

Never mind.

You did want to be near him.

You really wanted to be near him.

It was stupid really. You didn’t feel like crying at all, but the second you saw Theodore, that feeling very quickly resolved into the urge to bury your face into your chest, and not stop.

So you did.

Theodore's arms envelop you, and he holds you impossibly tight. He swears every sob that comes from you chips away at his being and he soothes you, rubbing your back as he holds you.

Theodore can count the number of times he's felt pure anger on one hand. Sheer rage. The type that consumes you from the inside out. Once when he was 8, and his mother passed away. He remembers hearing his father disregard the whole thing with such cruel indifference he felt as though a fire was blazing him from the inside out. As with many young wizards his age, he did not know how to control this magic.

He ended up setting fire to the library that day.

The second time, in 1st year, when Alicia Thornsby had made a cruel remark about Theodore’s home life.

“Well, my mother said that Theodore must have a horrible holiday. What, with his father being-” She starts, but she didn’t get to finish.

The teachers couldn’t comprehend under what vindication a child learnt a stinging hex strong enough to permanently mar the skin of the girl, but it was the first and last time anyone dared utter a word against Theodore.

That was the 2nd, and last time Theodore had felt unbridled rage, in his 18 years of life.

That was, until today.

Because, the sight of you, with blood on your cheek, sobbing into his chest, was enough to reignite that dormant flame of anger within Theodore.

“Who?” He manages to utter, voice strained.

You remain quiet, the silence punctuated by the occasional sniffle as you remain hidden in his chest.

He pulls back, lifting your chin. Your eyes are fixated on where the once-dried blood had washed onto his shirt, and he is fixated on you.

“Who?” He emphasises again, his eyes flickering down to the cut on your face. He runs his finger gently along the cut, and when he watches you wince he pauses, a flicker of pain crossing his face. The sight of you wincing, even at his gentle touch, shatters something within Theodore.

You hesitate before you speak, but ultimately, the words slip out of your mouth.

“Your father.”

The weight of those two words, "Your father," hung in the air, and for a moment, Theodore felt as if the very ground beneath him had crumbled.

His eyes widen momentarily, and he can't speak.

No, because there's a horrible feeling of fear, guilt, regret, perhaps a combination of all three, and it's lodged in his throat. It’s almost suffocating him, he can barely breathe, and it's constricting his airways.

The image of you, the person he held dearest, broken and bloodied, collided with the nightmare he had feared for years. He couldn't comprehend the cruelty his own flesh and blood had inflicted upon you, someone he cherished beyond measure. He speaks, and his voice is so heartbreakingly soft, a mere whisper weighed down by the burden of the truth that unfolded before him.

“I'm so, so sorry.” He utters, as though he prompted the hand that came down to hit you.

He believed he did. Because it was only by association, that you had been hurt by his father. That was why you were hurt, right?

His fault. All his fault. All his fault.

He has to take a deep breath and force himself to calm down and think.

Think.

His first priority was you. Always you. He leads you down to your bed and forces you to take a seat on the edge. You watch him as he disappears into the bathroom, reemerging with a damp washcloth in his hand. He kneels down in front of you, hesitating as he slowly lifts the hem of your skirt upwards slightly. He catches a glimpse of the gash on your thigh and that horrible feeling remerges again.

He gently wipes the cloth over the cut, leaning down to press a kiss on your skin. He mutters a few words, and with a small sharp pinch, the skin on your thigh begins to stitch up slightly. Not enough to fully heal, but to ensure it would in the future.

You don’t question how he knows exactly how to heal these wounds.

You know.

He does the same for your arm. Every second he stares at the cut, he feels his resolve shatter further and further, till he can tell whether he wants to cry or ensure the murder of his father with his own hands.

His hands come up to your face, and he lets out a shaky breath. He is ashamed to even look you in the face,

His own reflection of guilt and regret is etched into his features. He keeps his eyes focused on the task at hand, tending to the wounds inflicted upon you by the person who Theodore swore would never even set his gaze on you.

The room is filled with an anguished silence as Theodore continues his ministrations.

As he tends to your injuries, Theodore's mind is a battleground of self-recrimination. The echoes of your sobbing, the memory of your blood on his shirt, haunt him like a relentless ghost. "I'm so, so sorry," he whispers again, the words heavy with remorse as if he could somehow atone for the sins of his family.

With each stitch on your wounds, he feels the seams of his composure unravelling.

When he finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, the vulnerability in his eyes is palpable. The shame he feels is evident.

You muster a weak smile, a hand coming up to cup his face. Your thumb brushes against his cheek lovingly as you speak, your voice calm.

“It's not your fault,”

He wants to cry.

It is. It is his fault.

Theodore pulls you into an embrace, holding you tightly against his chest. The warmth of his embrace is both comforting and suffocating, a paradox of love and guilt; a conflict that threatens to tear him apart.

As Theodore lies down with you, the weight of his guilt still hangs in the air. He holds you as if trying to shield you from the world. He utters words of apology, repeating the words like a mantra.

“I love you.”

But amidst the soothing cadence of his voice, there's an undercurrent of resolution. The conflict within Theodore reaches its zenith, and a painful decision emerges. He knows he can't risk his father ever hurting you again. The love he feels for you clashes with the harsh reality of his future.

Theodore's grip tightens for a moment as if trying to hold onto the fleeting moments of solace. Yet, with a heavy heart, the decision he has to make is almost clear.

“It isn't your fault. Don't apologise.” You whisper, curled into his arms.

“It is. It's all my fault. I got you involved in this,” He utters, as though the admission is poison on his tongue.

“I’m not a good person. I have a horrible family, and he’ll want me to do horrible things, and I’ll have to do them.” He admits, voice breaking.

“No, you don’t. I’m here. I love you, Theodore. I won’t ever leave, and I swear you won’t deal with that alone.” You repeat, voice laced with conviction.

“I'm beyond help. Don’t give your heart to me.” He croaks.

You lift your head up from where it was resting, eyes gazing directly into his. You remain silent for a beat, then two, before you speak.

“I already have.” You respond.

Theodore should feel relief at those words, but he doesn't. Rather, he feels sick. Because he can’t, he won't risk you getting hurt again. He kisses you and pulls you back in, laying next to one another as he wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly, if only for one last night.

Because there was only one thing Theodore could do to make sure his father would never hurt you again.

He had to leave you.

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