Hello! I would like to request a Coriolanus snow x fem!reader where the reader is pregnant and they are under attacked and she gets knocked out or passes out and Corio finds her?and in the end she and the baby(s) are fine? Or if you wanted during the rebel attack the reader gets very badly hurt and concerns the doctors a whole and he thinks he going to lose her? She wakes up.
(Sorry if it’s confusing.. it can be two separate fics or one of your choosing! :) )
Incompetent Beings | C.S.
summary: ^^^ everything mentioned above in the request
No matter what he did—even if he just breathed—everyone would still, stupefied from how commanding his presence was. With every speech and every interview, the crowd was left with awe and fear of the man. But even so, everyone knew the President had one weakness.
That weakness being you.
Everyone in Panem could see the way he softened ever so slightly when you appeared—it was like a goddess emerging from a light and he was ready to surrender. Unfortunately, that only made things worse for him when they were visiting District 12 and they decided it was the best time to rebel against the President.
You were already being led away toward the safe house in District 12 as Coriolanus had made a safe house in every District—knowing their history of violence all too well. The copious amount of peacekeepers leading you there made you an even bigger target than before.
Truly, you sometimes believed your husband wasn’t the brightest in some areas that related to you.
“Ma’am, the President requested you stay put while he handles everything outside—“
“I’m aware of that, but I also am concerned for the safety of my husband and leaving me in here with no knowledge of what is happening outside isn’t—“
“Get down!”
The ground shook as Coriolanus tried mediating the faults between the Capitol and District 12, his eyes immediately darting toward the peacekeepers who took away the leader of the rebellion. The fate of the man was already decided the second he opened his loose mouth anyway.
Coriolanus rubbed his temple as he took a seat once more and creased his brows when the door to the meeting room opened, his voice tired yet sharp as he addressed whoever entered. “What is it?”
“Mr. President, there’s been an attack by the safe house.” A peacekeeper spoke, his voice ringing clear in the air.
It took less than a beat for Coriolanus to get up from his seat and head for the door, hands curling around his suit jacket as two more peacekeepers flanked his sides. The drive to the site was less than appealing, his lead peacekeeper recalling everything he was told when he first got the call.
“The men and women who—“
“I’m not sure you understand right now.” Coriolanus cut the peacekeeper of and spoke with a calmness in his voice that sent shivers down the spines of everyone riding with him. “I don’t care how this was orchestrated. I would like to know if my wife is well and safe.”
The peacekeeper cleared his throat and met Coriolanus’ piercing eyes, his voice barely holding on as he spoke. “We’re still searching the area for her, sir.”
Silence filled the air before Coriolanus spoke.
“Are you telling me my wife is currently missing?” He raised his brows and clasped his hands together, a dangerous look in his eyes. When no one answered, he sighed and waved a hand. “Well, I guess we have to drive faster, don’t we?”
Almost immediately, the peacekeepers relayed to one another about their President’s commands, the car going well over 90 miles per hour before they came across the rebel bombing right at the outskirts of 12. There were already other peacekeepers tracking down those fallen from the attack, and another group merely searching for you.
Coriolanus knew the men and women sent out to search for you weren’t nearly looking as hard as they made it seem because he found you within a minute of hopping out of the military car.
However, it was unlucky that he found you passed out and buried under muck and rubble from the explosion.
While maintaining his dignified demeanor—or what was left of it when he ran over to you with crazed eyes—Coriolanus pushed the pieces of wood and rock away from your body, cradling you in his arms while peacekeepers rushed around the two of you like complete fools.
If Coriolanus was being truly honest, the ride to the hospital seemed like a blur. His mind was elsewhere—thinking about what he could’ve done better to prevent this, and if you weren’t too badly hurt—praying you weren’t. Coriolanus swore he would protect you and everything that came with you, especially when you were carrying the Snow heir.
The entire west wing of the hospital was cleared out for you, staff members zipping their mouths shut when they saw the President take long strides down the hall with you cradled in his arms, his tone commanding as the doctors walked beside him with clipboards and barely there expressions.
It wasn’t until hours later that Coriolanus was able to breathe again. Albeit, still shallowly given the circumstances.
He was sitting beside you, your limp hand clutched in his as he stared over your figure. You were lying in a white hospital bed, head bandaged with IVs sticking out of your arm. The doctors said you were okay, and that the baby was fine, but Coriolanus stopped listening to their judgment when they dismissed his mother and his unborn little sister back during the first rebellion.
“Mr. President, Mayor Gallowood wants to speak with you.” A peacekeeper reported, saluting Coriolanus as she stood before him.
“I’m busy.” He waved her offhandedly, eyes trained on your furrowed brows—clearly still deep in thought as you lay unconscious. “We’ll deal with the rest of District Twelve later. For now, they're on lockdown.”
“Sir—“
“Dismissed.” Coriolanus spoke with a touch of finality, pursing his lips when the door shut again. Sighing, he kissed your knuckles and brought them to his forehead. “God, how am I supposed to deal with incompetent beings without you, my love.”
He sighed and kissed your knuckles again, watching your vitals with every heartbeat that passed. To him, you were the one thing grounding him in a world of pure horror—the horror that no one else but you knew about. If you were gone, there really wasn’t a point in being a commanding President at all.
Time ticked slowly the more Coriolanus sat still by your side, only ever getting up to use the restroom that was in your private hospital room. Even so, he would listen for anything irregular coming from you. It had been three days since he last left the room to lead the country—yet everyone was still holding their breathes as if he was watching their every move.
But the only person he really was watching was you.
When you finally stirred, Coriolanus instantly shot up from his seat and clicked the button on the side of your bed, his hand still wrapped around yours as it twitched in confusion.
“Coryo?” You mutter, voice raspy from not using for so long. You tried sitting up, but were gently forced back down by him, confusion still swimming in your mind. “What are you—?”
“I thought you were never going to wake up.” He murmured and cradled your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours for the first time in days. “How are you feeling?”
“Terribly tired and sore.” You frown slightly and crease your brows, scanning his face in worry. “What happened? You look like you haven’t gotten any sleep, Coryo…”
He exhaled softly and kissed your forehead, pulling away and lacing his hand with yours when the doctors and nurses came into the room. “You did enough sleeping for the both of us, I’ll be okay as long as you are.”
You looked at him in confusion again before shifting your attention to the doctors who were asking you far too many questions for you to catch up. By the time you were able to answer with no issue—and find out what happened to you—they were already scanning your stomach for the fetus.
“Your daughter is alright, Mrs. Snow. And your vitals are excellent, so you can expect to be out of here by tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest.” One doctor flashed the sonogram of your baby to you and Coriolanus, a small smile making its way to Coriolanus’ face before schooling it.
The doctor handed Coriolanus a prescription for some cream for your bruises, saying it was to help expedite the discoloration on your skin and ease the pain you would feel once the medication wore off.
You nod and thank her, watching all the doctors and nurses walk out before the door on the room clicked shut. You looked back over to your husband with bright eyes, excitement shining in them.
“Did you hear her?”
“I did.” He helped you sit up properly this time, tucking a piece of hair behind your hair and smiling at your giddiness. He chuckled under his breath when the shine in your eyes intensified, “We’re having a baby girl.”
“We’re having a baby girl.” You repeat almost in disbelief, squeezing his hand in mild shock at the information revealed.
Coriolanus pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his blue eyes meeting yours. “And I’m glad both you and her are safe. But next time we have to come out to the District’s—especially twelve—you’re staying with me.”
“Dramatic, Coryo.” You tease and plant a kiss to his lips.
“Careful.” He corrected and smiled when you kissed his lips again. He pulled away and thumbed your cheek. His gaze turned serious after the scene of you lying unconscious appeared in his mind once more. “I’m not going to see my wife in another hospital bed again unless our daughter is coming, alright?”
You nod and tilt your head to the side, the same glint Coriolanus always wore when speaking to those lower than him reflecting in your own eyes. “And those rebels?”
Coriolanus hummed, sitting up straight and tugging at the cuffs of his sleeves. “Already taken care of.”
I know I haven’t requested anything in a long LONG time but if you’re still up for it, could you please do a very protective snow fic?🥺🥺 like one when he’s so protective of his wife and new born daughter when doing an interview or like a presidential something 🥺🥺 if that’s okay with you!!
<3 <3 <3 this took forever but luv youuuu <3
౨ৎ꣑ৎNEXT QUESTION, PLEASE౨ৎ꣑ৎ
꣑ৎcoriolanus is protective of you in an interview꣑ৎ
fem reader x coriolanus snow
large text version here!
Even though the door shut quietly, you still woke up, humming and stretching where you were laying on the sofa. Turning onto your side, you settled back in, still sleepy. It was late; you fell asleep in front of the television.
A warm palm found your face, and you leaned into it, half sure you were dreaming. When you opened your eyes, Coriolanus was there, watching you with soft eyes. "Sweetheart."
His hands were smooth. You had only ever known them as a place to rest your cheek. "Coryo."
The corner of his mouth tipped up. "You're tired."
"Mhm." Your eyes widened suddenly, and you struggled to sit up. "Your interview. I slept through it."
"Shh." He soothed you with a hand on your back, bringing you forward to rest on his shoulder. Before he came over, he must have removed his suit jacket. You twisted your arms around him and yawned into his neck. Coriolanus kissed the side of your head and smoothed his fingers up your back. "It's alright. You didn't miss anything.
"I meant to stay up for it," you said, brow furrowing.
He reached up to smooth it out. "I wouldn't want you to watch it anyways."
He must be tired too. His voice was heavier than usual, and his arms were tight around your middle. You pulled back, searching his eyes. "Is everything okay?"
"Of course." Even if it was a bandaid over a snake bite, he wouldn't let on. You squinted at him and he smoothed your hair, your eyes growing heavy again. "We'll talk about it later. After you've gotten more rest."
"You need rest," you repeated, and he chuckled lightly.
"Arms around my neck. Yes, just like that." He lifted you into his arms, adjusting the strap of your nightdress when it fell off your shoulder. "Just close your eyes. We're going to go to bed."
"I want to hear 'bout it," you insisted, fingering his collar. "Please?"
"In the morning," he promised, "I'll tell you everything you want to know." When he laid you down on the bed, you stretched out, arms falling above your head. "I'll be right back. Do you think you can manage getting under the covers?"
You giggled, nodding. "I can do it." Coriolanus left you with a kiss on the forehead and you wiggled up to tuck yourself in. Closing your eyes, it felt like seconds before the mattress dipped and he was arranging himself around you.
"I thought you'd fall asleep," he muttered into your hair.
"Waited for you."
"Very generous." Coriolanus latched his arm around your front. "Now will you rest?"
"Don't know why you want me to sleep," you mumbled, arching into him, stretching. "I don't even do anything."
"You do plenty. Exactly what I want you to do." He rubbed your side, and you slumped into your pillow. "Just rest, sweetheart. You have nothing to worry about."
It was easy to believe him.
When you got up to get your breakfast tray, he was still passed out. It was hard to get him to sleep at all, let alone for this long. Settling beside him in bed with your trays at the end, you leaned against the headboard with his newspaper. Knowing him, he would probably wake in a few minutes, so you would wait to eat.
Unfolding the paper, you smoothed it down on your lap, surveying the black and white pictures. One of Coriolanus caught your eye, and you traced your finger to the story. One about the interview, so the headline said. Perking up, you settled in and started reading. At least if you knew what he was being interviewed about, then you would know what questions to ask.
Skimming, you searched for anything that would allude to his mysterious mood last night. When you read your name, you stopped and began to read.
The president's wife is not-so-secretly a sore topic among many high profile Capitolites. Snow has been criticized for her seemingly inappropriate behavior at her few public appearances. Several of her peers in high society have disclosed her too-sunny behavior, as well as her charity work, deemed unclean and unnecessary.
You frowned, pausing and mentally skimming over your work from the past few months. Attending the new theater and donating a large sum to the performing arts department, re-visiting the animal shelter where you adopted Fish, announcing a grant for scholarships to the university. Was any of it inappropriate? You thought Coriolanus would have told you if it was. He was very concerned with public image. Shrugging, you kept reading.
The tipping point in the media came recently, when Mrs. Snow attended a gala alongside the president. An inside source mocked her public display of affection toward President Snow. She was holding his hand throughout the night, even leaning her head on his shoulder at one point. The insider claimed the couple left the room at one point and when they returned, her makeup was smudged. What were they doing while they were missing for nearly fifteen minutes? We may never know.
The source detailed Mrs. Snow's conversation throughout the night too, her unnecessary showing off. "She's trying to seem smart," they said, rolling their eyes. "It's pointless, really. We all know why President Snow married her-"
You put the paper down. There was a horrible gnawing feeling in your chest threatening to overtake the rest of you. Folding your legs into your chest, you tried to will the tears pricking your eyes away. Was this really what everyone thought of you? That you were an empty headed socialite who spent all of your husband's money? Sniffling, you hid your face in your knees.
When Coriolanus began to stir next to you, you gritted your teeth, hoping your eyes weren't red. The door creaked open, and you looked up in time to see Fish strut inside, making his way to your side of the bed. You petted him when he sprang up, silky fur grounding you. Fish had seen you cry the most out of anybody in your life, and he never made you feel bad for it.
Coriolanus reached across your thighs, rubbing you slightly as he sat up. "Good morning, darling." He smoothed his hair back, the messy wave you loved. You brushed your cheeks with your fingers, making sure there weren't any stray tears.
"Morning." You turned to face him on your side, smiling softly. "How did you sleep?"
"Very well." He cupped your cheek, looking over you like you were a goddess. "You?"
"Good." His pleased nod lit your candle. You pulled the covers over your shoulders, burrowing back into bed. "I'm sleepy still."
Sitting up against the headboard, Coriolanus opened his arm. "Come rest while we eat breakfast." He spotted the paper on your lap. "Were you reading that?"
"Uh, just a little." You shrugged, pushing it away. "Nothing good."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Anything about last night?"
"No!" Your answer came too quickly. Your husband reached for the paper, still open on the story about his interview.
He went quiet as he read, and you curled into yourself, face going hot. "It's nothing, Coryo. Nothing."
When he looked at you again, he was sharp. "How much of this did you read?" You folded your lips together and a fire lit in his eyes. "I have a call to make."
"Coryo." You sprang up, shaking your head. "It's fine."
"Nothing about this is fine." His voice could cut steel. "Printing lies about the president's wife when I specifically told them last night to cut the questions I refused to answer is punishable."
"They asked you about me?" You covered your cheeks with your hands, feeling too hot all of the sudden. It was mortifying, the thought of him being asked about you with the connotations the article implied.
He softened as he looked at you. "Sweetheart, it isn't your fault."
"Coryo, everything they said-"
"None of it is true. You know how the gossip rags are." He took your wrists, pulling your hands down. "You have done nothing wrong. People jump to conclusions and make things up because they're bored."
"Coryo, they talk about when we stepped out," you said, tears burning your eyes again. "They thought we were-"
"We know we weren't." He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. "You were overwhelmed, and you needed a few minutes. I won't let what people say stop us from doing it again."
"After all this time, I'm still not used to these events." You felt tired. "If people are going to think we're being crude when we step out, I'll just deal with it. If they think I'm spending all your money on bags and shoes or trying to get a tax break, then I'll stop going out."
"No, you won't." Coriolanus thumbed a tear that slipped down your cheek. "You aren't going to stop doing anything you love doing. We're going to keep moving."
"I don't know how to do this," you said, shaking your head and hiding your face in your hands. "Coryo, I don't want to ruin your reputation. I want to be a good First Lady."
"You are a good First Lady." He took your hands from your face. "Sweetheart, you've already done more than anybody before you."
"I'm embarrassing."
"You're charming. Enchanting." He took your face in his hands, kissing your forehead. "You make me look better. People vote for me because they see you next to me."
"I'm not a good person."
"You're the best person I know." Coriolanus palmed your cheek. "I won't let anybody in the world make you feel like that again." He searched your eyes, letting it sink in. "You have no idea how much you mean, my love."
Tears pricked your eyes again, and you leaned into his shoulder. Coriolanus held you, rubbing your back. "Don't worry about anything they say. I'll take care of it."
You didn't question it, even though maybe you should have. All that mattered right now was his arms around you, his promise echoing in your ears. Fish curled up at your feet, purring like a motor. There was no doubt in the love you were surrounded by.
"I'll protect you forever," he vowed, and you could hear his heart beating into your ear. A rose that would never stop blooming.
warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey
note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!
hunger games masterlist
Coriolanus is possessive.
It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.
It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.
It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.
He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.
There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.
You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.
“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”
His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.
“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.
He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.
“Nothing. I have you.”
“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”
He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.
“Coryo,” you pant.
“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.
“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.
You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.
“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”
The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.
“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”
“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”
“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.
pairing: dark!president!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader
summary: he’d won the election, much to your elation. now you’d have to navigate the fame, fortune and status as the first lady of panem. but coriolanus just wanted you all to himself, and he’d do anything to scare you into his arms.
warnings: possessiveness, murder, robbery, bad smut, controlling, tears, babying, kisses, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, kinda subby corio/dom, praise, sense of entitlement? breeding kink, tummy bulge, overstimulation, little bit of aftercare
word count: 2k
a/n: i’m such a bitch for making everyone wait so long for a delicate part two 😌 and i finally have the confidence for smut so heheh - yes i’m using tvd names a lot - corio/coryo use - tried out a new layout 👀
part one of delicate
you couldn’t believe it.
coriolanus snow, president of panem.
all of his hard work has finally paid off and you couldn’t be more happy for him. you wanted to give him a gift but you still had no idea what he would want. it seemed the two of you practically had everything overnight, so a measly gift seemed to be difficult to acquire, one that he liked? even harder.
so you’d decided to go out, the idea of surprising him exciting you so much you’d forgotten to tell coriolanus where you were going to.
so imagine his surprise when his assistant told him you’d left the house, viewing you on the security cameras.
which you had no idea were there.
coriolanus saw it as an act of defiance.
he had to move about this correctly, he couldn’t have you injured, but he needed to scare you back into his arms. to remind you of the horrible place that panem was.
over twelve stores, and nothing. so you’d decided to enlist the help of one of your few friends. “not a single clue of what he’d want?” elena asked as you stabbed at your fries, “nope.” you answered as you placed a fry in your mouth.
“well if he has absolutely everything then his gorgeous wife should be a nice gift after an extremely long day no?” you looked up at her, confused, “what do you mean?” she giggled, “oh god, i forget how you don’t know that much. you, y/n.” at your adorable puppy face she leaned in, “your body.” you jumped back at her words, “i… i’ve never.”
“you’ve never?!” elena slapped her hand over her mouth at your admission, “how? i mean you’re absolutely stunning sweetheart, how hasn’t he yet?” you played with the table cloth in your hands, “i don’t know.” elena twisted her fork around her pasta, “okay has he never made a move, or, have you never noticed the signs?” you took a sip of your wine as you stared back at her, “what signs?” elena sighed, rubbing her temple, “there are signs, moments. the two of you, sitting on the couch and his hand trails higher. his breath quickens at the sight of you in a dress. the little things.”
“and what happens if you notice these signs, act on them?” and this was exactly her expertise, she wiped her face with her napkin before paying the bill. “if i’m going to explain this in detail then we need to go to my house. or a dirtier part of town. my dear girl, i’m taking you to your first ever bar.”
coriolanus has to hold on to his mask of self-restraint, you’d been spotted at a bar, with one of your friends that he despised. but at least his plan could take full effect without a hitch.
your mind had been blown, irrevocably and utterly blown. the way elena had described it all, she made it sound like heaven. but she did tell you about other men, some care for themselves more so than the girl. and you had no clue what type of man corio was in bed.
you’d been so absorbed in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed the man following you, not until he attacked you. he’d been going after your bag of course, but it was a gift from coriolanus. the man was unrelenting as he shoved you against the cold wall, grimy hands pushing and pulling with you as you tried to regain hold of your purse. “let go!” you cried out before he slammed you into the wall again, loosing grip on the purse coriolanus had just gifted you.
what would he say? it was his gift to you!
you woke up with a throbbing headache and corios hands brushing away strands from your face. “there you are sweet thing. you feeling okay?” you peered up at him, unable to move due to the millions of blankets on you. noticing your struggle he smiled before shifting them off, “better?” you nodded before sitting up with his help.
“corio, i lost the bag you gave me. the bad guy he- i’m so so sorry. please don’t be mad with me i didn’t mean to-“ he laughed, although it didn’t reach his eyes, “you think i care about the bag y/n/n? i could buy you a million bags, better bags. i’m just glad you’re okay. those guys, they won’t bother you again.” all you could do was sob and hug him, pondering the meaning of his words.
AN HOUR AGO
“hey, what the hell man? you said to attack the girl and take the bag!” the man shouted as coriolanus undid his cuffs, adjusted his sleeve, pushing it back on both arms. “i told you to go for the bag, yes. but i specifically remember drilling it into your head not to hurt her. and now she’s lying in bed, has been for the past three hours with bruises everywhere. and for that?”
shouts and screams of pain echoed through the abandoned building as coriolanus struck the man with a hammer, over and over and over. the job had one guideline. and this idiot couldn’t get it right.
don’t hurt his delicate girl.
PRESENT
you’d been so absorbed with worrying over the purse and apologising for your tears you hadn’t noticed corios hungry eyes. “i really did like that purse.” he murmured, “oh corio, i should’ve tried harder to keep it. what can i do?” hook, line and sinker. he had you where he wanted and he’d finally get what he deserved.
“let me fuck you. please.” and who were you to say no? your naivety led to him laying you down on the bed, head between your thighs. you’d heard about it from elena, a man pleasuring a woman, but it was a million times better than you could’ve imagined. coriolanus was messy, and desperate. he’d been waiting for so long and god was it worth it.
his heart raced with both excitement and nervousness as he held your thighs in his own hands, tracing up and downwards, feeling the warmth against his own skin. coriolanus couldn't resist the opportunity to tease you. “you wanna cum?” corio mumbled as he continued sucking on your swollen clit, “mhm.” you could hear him laughing at your pathetic excuse of agreeing.
coriolanus wholeheartedly believes you belong to him. the second you were married, and even before, you were his. your submission would prove it, and he would do anything for it. you were his and he was yours. his bold blue eyes ravished you, all of you, “who’s making you feel this good?” your hips squirmed away from him but he just pulled you back, pushing two fingers into you.
corio reveled in your naivety, the way you responded to his touch, the way you whispered dirty words as if it were a sin. and right now, you still couldn’t bring yourself to name what you needed. his pace was brutal as he lapped at your cunt, a third finger curling inside of you as they went in and out. your gasps and cries were music to his ears, he’d been denied this all too long, and he wasn’t sure how he’d ever done it. “cmon, say it.” and you did, over and over again. “it’s you! you, coryo.”
“coryo, ah, your fingers feel so good,” you mewled, tilting your hips more trying to lean into his touch. coryo withdrew his fingers to play with your clit, rubbing circles around your sensitive nub that resulted in you crying out in pleasure.
“such a good girl, getting all wet for me,” you nodded along dumbly, “for you, all you.” you babbled as he kissed you deeply.
coryos hand dragged up and down your folds, “your pussy is soaked, baby. look at that,” you whined at the feeling of him not touching you, your cheeks flushed at the sight of your arousal. coryo pulled his pants down, throwing them away over his shoulder. you hid your head into the pillow as coryo tutted, “you have to look pretty girl, look at the mess you made.” coryo taunted as he rubbed your slick juices all over his dick, trying to humiliate you, get a rise out of you. coryos hand holds onto your neck, tightening as you clutched on with both hands, “please, coryo, i’ll be so good.” he rested his forehead on yours, noses touching.
“i love you, i love you, i love you.” he whispered in your ear, “my beautiful wife, you’d look so good with my baby in you.” the idea of having his baby had you pressing your lips to his as he bit down on your lower lip, making you gasp as your lips part, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, exploring every bit of you he’d ever wished to. his hunger hadn’t fallen, only increased.
“ i need to fuck you,” he panted, you having stolen his breath. coryo teased your folds with the head of his cock, “need to fill up this pretty little pussy of yours,” he pushed into you, warm walls coating his cock as he groaned, “you feel so good.” he moaned into your neck as your hands clutched onto his broad shoulders. he wasn’t sure if he’d last long but then again he didn’t care, it’s not like you knew it was a short time.
the way you clenched down on him was more than enough proof of your virginity. your cries fueled him on as he pinned your hips down into the mattress, rutting against you wildly. “you feel that?” he was everywhere, filling you up. his dick making an appearance through the bulge in your tummy. “uh-huh. too much i can’t-” he stopped you before you could finish by pressing down on it with his palm, “yes you can baby.” you shook your head, “coryo i can’t, you feel too good.” you begin, crying from how good he was making you feel, from how dumb and desperate he was making you.
“m’ gonna fill you up, gonna give you my baby.” he was driving you crazy, his heavy panting, hands on either side of your head, his voice was deep and filled with fire. “yes, yes please inside me.” coryo’s eyes squeezed shut and his brow furrowed you were too much, fuelled on by the idea of a pregnant wife, pregnant you. swollen belly, heavy breasts, relying on him to help you out of bed. his hips stuttered and faltered as he came inside you with a low groan. he didn’t care about pulling out and neither did you as your release came down on you again. “feels so good coryo, thank you.”
he couldn’t help his smile as you continued to thank him for making you feel so good. his ego was sure as hell swelling as he pulled out of you, collapsing on the bed. his hand caressed your face, kissing you all over, praising you.
“you did so well f’me. proud of you baby.” you grinned up at him as you snuggled into his neck. “only for you coryo.” all for him. “i’ll clean you up okay?” you nodded along as he got out of bed.
coriolanus deemed the night a success, but for some reason he didn’t feel complete. he wanted more. but as he looked up at your sleepy eyes and tired out body he wanted to let you rest. but the idea seemed to slip out of his head once he was levelled with your core again, his release spilling out of you and the warm towel forgotten. he didn’t stop himself when he began to lick at you, his tongue working his way into your entrance as your hand shoved at his face.
“coryo, i’m sensitive. coryo please stop.” you attempted to crawl away but his hands dragged you to the edge of the bed, legs around his head. your body fell limp against the sheets as pleasure took over. your hands laced with his hair as you cried out.
You didn’t understand how some people on the internet can be so . . . mean. Although there have been countless of fans cheering you and Tom on, it didn’t make it any less hurtful that there were still a ton who weren’t scared to be open about how much your boyfriend could do better.
It’s ironic; you think. They’re claiming they’re looking out for Tom, yet totally disregarding him and his girlfriend as human beings? Those weren’t real fans.
The reason for them hating you so much? Just for simply being with Tom. Everybody wanted him, that was your crime.
Everytime you got lost in your thoughts about this topic, Tom knew. Boyfriend instincts, he called them, but really, he was just a caring and observant person.
You tried not to break down over it, you really did, but a girl could only go on for so long before it all bursts out. Luckily, Tom pulls you right in, telling you to let it all out.
Although the world was filled with childish and hurtful beings, Tom Blyth was still who he was, a gentleman, attending to your every needs.
tomblyth really dgaf if you like my girlfriend or not cause i do and that’s all that matters
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user5 im cryinf the polaroid he has of her
user6 YES REAL MEN STAND UP FOR THEIR GFS
user7 ALL THE PICS HE HAS OF HER 🥹🥹
tomblythswife oh to be yn avocot and be loved by tom blyth
rachelzegler tell ‘em 🙊
user8 she doesn’t even comment on the posts he makes abt her, so self centered lol
➥ ynuser I’m right next to him rn?? cant say the same thing about you “lol”
➥ user9 OH SHE ATE YOU UP @/user8
tomblyth_daily here are some clips of tom talking about his relationship in his new interview! GET YOU A MAN THATS LIKE TOM BLYTH 🗣️🗣️🗣️
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user10 the way he’s so passionate when talking about her and being a good boyfriend, God I hate being single
user11 “they’re not even that cute” STFU AND GO WATCH THIS INTERVIEW CAUSE ??
user12 tom blyth said put aside your nonchalant attitudes, im looking at YOU MEN 🫵🫵
ilovetomblyth he’s so boyfriend it actually hurts
user13 yn must’ve saved a continent in her past life to be dating tom blyth omg
ynuser girls, before you have a meltdown over a boy: think of what balleona laurent would do. kiss and manipulate coriolanus!
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tomblyth you kiss and manipulate me too
➥ ynuser you’re gonna get me CANCELLED
user14 literal unbothered icon i love her
user15 if i were her id post a tiktok with that audio “he chose me he don’t want you”
iloveyn SHES SO FUNNY
lionsgate us when behind the scenes photo of balleona 😻
➥ user16 lmao stop who’s the admin of lionsgate
user17 balleona is such a bad person but oh is she hot
tomblyth she was like a shot of espresso
tagged @/ynuser
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ynuser i love u more than words can describe blyth
user18 ok who’s cutting onions
user19 GIRLS, GUYS, THEY THEMS, STOP SETTLING FOR BARE MINIMUM WHEN TOM BLYTH LITERALLY CALLED HIS GF A SHOT OF ESPRESSO, GIVES HER FLOWERS EVERYDAY, AND TALKS ABT HER ALL THE TIME IN HIS INTERVIEWS
➥ user20 YELL IT HARDER SISTER 👐👐👐
user21 this is so dark academica im inlove with u guys
user22 parentssss
rachelzegler my favorites
ynuser SNOW LANDS ON TOP LOSERS
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tomblyth yn, i love you but
➥ user23 LMFAOO when he doesn’t finish his sentence
user24 the second pic thank u yn
joshandresrivera on top of u maybe
➥ user25 IM DYING OML
user26 thank you to lionsgate for casting the most hottest villain couple ever
Imagine how distraught snow would be if his wife had a really rough time giving birth to their child where she’s coming in and out of conscience and there’s blood and he’s terrified she won’t make it like his mother leading to him hating the baby for a little bc of how badly his wife was recovering sorry for the angst! Ignore this if uncomfortable <3
forever winter |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
prompt: as requested, troubles with child birth leaves coriolanus very cold towards your son.
contains: angst. mentions of parental death, blood, complications during birth. darkish coriolanus. kinda fluffy-ish end?
Coriolanus knew the horrors of childbirth. He knew the dangers, the risks. He’d seen the blank stares of a new mother rocking her baby, eyes blank and distant like she’d been through war. He’d heard the solemn whispers in a dim room, quiet and hushed, darting eyes that looked everywhere but the casket- sometimes two. His own mother had been torn from his grasp at a young age because of it, and for a while, he was sure he’d never let his own wife experience it.
Then he met you.
You who lit his world up from the inside out, who he rose only each day to see- to love. You who cradled a baby at your engagement announcement, a friend’s newborn, held him so naturally and delicately that it ignited something inside Coriolanus. He wanted a dozen babies with you, he decided at that moment that he’d do anything to make it happen.
You’d blossomed so naturally, swelled up overnight. Round belly and a glowing demeanor- it was addictive to Coriolanus. How he’d brag, boast proudly to anyone who’d hear it- his wife pregnant, he couldn’t be happier.
All those fears, worries, were replaced with new ones. Horror stories about infants, toddlers. His own consuming thoughts about being a father. The idea of childbirth was nothing but a fading thought to him. That had been in the war, technology was better, he was in a better place. Your father had ensured his darling daughter would have the best of the best- you always did. The best doctors, the best birthing suite, the best nursery- the best.
But money couldn’t buy your own body betraying itself at birth. It didn’t stop the bleeding, the paling of your skin as you fluttered in and out of consciousness.
You’d grunted like an animal, tearing yourself into two for hours, cursing Coriolanus’ name, begging him to make it stop, crushing his hands with your legs up in the stirrups, pushing your baby out.
Coriolanus was in awe of you, though he’d never get the chance to tell you. How you’d willed yourself to hurt yourself, inflict that selfless pain to bring life into the world. It was positively poetic.
He’d been so overjoyed hearing your babies gargled cry, the nurses announcing its gender- his gender. His son. A boy. A beautiful boy, wailing and delicate and covered in matter that Coriolanus didn’t even care about when he held him close to his own chest.
“What is it, Coryo?” You muttered, eyes drooping, chest heaving with aftershocks of pain from the birth.
“A boy, my love.” Coryo’s eyes shone with tears, lips pressing together to conceal it. “It’s a boy. Our boy, my darling.”
“A boy…” Your speech was slurred, head lolling back onto the pillow.
Coriolanus noticed for the first time how still the room had become, his son’s wailing the only sound. The nurses and doctors, once chipper and gleeful, now bearing a sickly paleness to their face, eerily quiet.
“What? What’s wrong?” Coriolanus snapped, eyes wide, frantic, bouncing around the room. “What’s happening?”
“We-We can’t find-” The doctor’s voice shook, ducked between your legs in a pile of crimson. Coriolanus’ stomach turned violently.
“She’s bleeding. We-We can’t find where the bleeding is.” The nurse whispered.
“What?” Coriolanus snapped. “Bleeding? H-How can she- Find it!” The baby wailed over the sound of Coriolanus’ demanding barks.
“President Snow, we-we’re trying our best-”
“-Try harder.” Coriolanus sneered, clutching the baby closer to his chest. “If anything happens to my wife, I will single handedly ensure your bloodline ends with you. Each of you will know what it feels like to lose your family too if you lose her.” He spat, sending the nurses and doctors into a fearful frenzy.
The newborn wailed, doctors shouted, and Coriolanus’ ears rang, his chest too tight, painfully tight. He couldn’t lose you, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t survive that loss. His eyes fell to the screeching baby beneath him, scrunched face and wailing gums. How was he to raise this baby without you?
Anger boiled through his chest at the sight of his son- his fault. A cowering nurse, frozen in shaking fear in the corner, watched him carefully as he stormed towards her. “Take this.” Coriolanus sneered, shoving the baby in her arms.
He hated the feeling, the helplessness that consumed him as he stood, wide eyed and shaking hands he clenched into fists.
Somewhere, somehow, the doctor found the bleeding, stopping it with a triumphant cry. “Get the blood, get the blood!” He shouted, head hooked over his shoulder. “Infuse it now!”
Coriolanus wasn’t sure he could remember how to breathe. Memories of the two of your: the moment you met, the first date, his shaking hands asking for yours in marriage, the way you beamed under your veil at the altar, the same glow that you had when you told him you were pregnant. It could all be gone so easily. Had his father felt this way? So helpless?
Maybe that’s why he’d been so hardened and resentful, so he’d never feel attached- never allow himself to feel so helpless.
Coriolanus decided he couldn’t blame him, sitting in this chair, watching as you rested. The doctor said there’d be a lot of that in the coming hours. That you’d gone through trauma and you needed time. He wanted to rip you from the bed, shake you until you awoke and told him you were ok. He needed to hear it, maddenned himself with the need for it.
Instead, he sat.
Coryo sent the baby out to the nursery. He knew your parents, Tigris, everyone waiting would be thrilled to see the baby boy. Coryo just couldn’t muster the feigned excitement now. The site of his own son made his stomach turn, fear soaked repulsion settled deep in the pitt of his own core.
Somewhere in the night, you awoke. A rustling and a groan that had Coriolanus snapping out of his dazed sleep, head tucked to his shoulder, slumped in the chair beside your bed.
“Don’t move.” Coryo commanded, eyes a kind of bright, frantic wide that had you stilling.
Your throat burned, head dizzy with the medicine they’d pumped into your system. Coriolanus’ hands shook as he brought you the water, hand cupping your jaw gently to feed it to you. You blinked, bleary with confusion. “You’re alright, my love.” Coriolanus' heart swelled, suffocatingly in his own chest. You were alright.
“Coryo,” You croaked, throat tight, rasping from before, you were sure. You remembered the birth, most of it anyways, the blurry memory of your baby in Coryo’s arms before your memory failed. “The-The baby… Is he alright? W-Where’s my baby?”
“He’s with your parents, my love.” Coriolanus’ hand smoothes down your matted hair, sticky with dried sweat. “Nevermind him. How are you? Is anything wrong? Do you need anything? I-I’ll call for the nurse.”
You shook your head, looking around the room. The sheets were clean, your gown clean, but you felt an achy soreness splitting you in half. “What happened?”
Coriolanus felt the lump in his throat grow, strangling his words in his throat. “Y-You had some complications, darling.” He swallowed the burn of his own tears down in his throat. “You were bleeding but they stopped it.”
You blinked, unmoving, soaking in the details of your injury. Coriolanus watched you with a studying glare, eyes scanning for any tiny, minor infliction that something was wrong. “Is-Is the baby ok?” You whispered, eyes shining with fear when you met his gaze.
“The baby’s fine.” Coryo snapped, harsher than he meant to. It alarmed you, your eyes snapping to his carefully. He took a deep breath, holding your hand carefully into his own, thumb running over your knuckles.
“He’s fine.” Coryo said, softer this time. “I need to know how you are. What do you need from me, my love? What can I do to make it better?”
You squeezed his hand lightly, your strength weaker than normal. It made Coriolanus’ spine tingle with shooting chills of concern. “I want to see my baby.” You whispered, head leaning against Coryo’s shoulder.
“No,” Coriolanus shook his head furiously. “No, you-you need to rest, and-and not be bothered by the baby-”
“-Coryo,” Your eyes rounded, so pitifully pleading Coriolanus would have walked through fire for you if you asked him to. “Please? I just want to see our baby.”
And how could he say no? He couldn’t, so instead, Coriolanus called the nurse in. Your parents, proud grandparents, holding the baby, tutting over you. Everyone flitting about the birthing room, Tigris even gleaming with joy at the birth of her nephew. All except Coriolanus, who watched in the corner of the room, a stoic look on his face.
You looked positively radiant, glowing with joy as you held your son. As if that baby hadn’t nearly killed you, Coriolanus wanted to scream the reminder to you, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t dare upset you, risk upsetting you in front of your family.
“Coriolanus,” Tigris’ soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts, brought him away from his own sinking, heavy feelings of disappointment. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Tigris.” Coryo’s voice was tight, firm and forced, like the look of awkward contentment he tried to paint across his features.
“You… You haven’t held your son.” Tigris hesitated, voice dropping softly so the others wouldn’t overhear.
“I don’t wish to hold him right now.” Coriolanus sneered.
“He is your son, Coriolanus.” Tigris hissed, her voice dropping to a low hush in the room, terrified you or the others might hear.
“And he almost killed her.” Coryo’s eyes flashed to Tigris’ in horrified rage. “Nearly fated her as my sister did my mother, and if you think for one second I am to be happy at that, then you are-”
“-Coryo,” Your voice croaked, still weak and tired. It made his heart lurch, attention on you in a second, already walking towards your bedside.
“Yes, my love? What do you need?” Coriolanus muttered. Normally, he’d be embarrassed, showing such affection especially in front of your parents, but he hoped they’d pardon his vulnerability in the moment, given the circumstances.
“Look at him,” Your eyes shone with love, pure adoration, as if you weren’t cradling the very thing that almost killed you. It made Coryo sick. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
Coriolanus looked down at the small newborn, wrapped in swaddles, eyes closed and lips twitching with the faintest whimper of a cry. He looked so much like you, so much like himself- the perfect blend of the two of you taking your lips but Coriolanus’ nose.
His heart swelled with pride before he could help it, lips curling in a half smile. He’d grown weak, Coriolanus decided, softened by you and your love. He should be disgusted by the baby, despise him and reject him like an animal in the wild would. But he couldn’t bring himself to it.
“A fine young boy.” Your father boasted, nodding proudly. “The two of you should be very proud.”
“Yes,” Coryo swallowed around the lump in his throat. You leaned into his touch, shifting the baby so he could better see him.
“Any idea on the name?” Your mother hummed, moving beside you.
“I still think Cyrene would be fitting.” You’re beaming, beautiful and proud when you meet Coriolanus’ gaze. “What do you think, Coryo?”
“Yes,” Coryo nodded. “I think that would be a fine name.”
“Cyrene Snow,” You cooed, pressing your nose to the baby’s, pressing a gentle kiss there. Your eyes brimmed with tears when you met Coriolanus’ gaze. “Do you want to hold him, darling?”
“Are you getting tired?” Coryo watched you carefully. “Do you feel alright?”
“Yes,” You nodded. “I don’t want to hog the baby. Want you to have a chance too, darling.”
“That’s alright.” Coryo shook his head politely, suddenly very aware of your parents and Tigris’ gaze on him. “You hold him, my love.”
You frowned lightly. You knew something was off with Coryo, the tightness in his tone, lips falling in a flat line. You waited until later, when Cyrene lay in his bassinet, your family all gone for the night, just you and Coryo in the birthing suite.
“Why will you not hold him?” You asked through the still darkness. Coriolanus' eyes snapped to yours fiercely, startled by your tone.
“Excuse me?”
“Our baby.” You groaned when you sat up, Coryo rushing to your side.
“You need to be careful-”
“-You won’t hold him, Coriolanus.” You gripped his arm, eyes shining in something new- something Coryo wasn’t certain of, but it made his stomach twist. “Why?”
Coriolanus swallowed, the lump in his throat suffocating him. “The last time I held him,” Coryo’s voice was soft, rasping in the quiet room, barely above a whisper. “You nearly died.”
The room was still, far too still for either of you to find comfort. A harsh, shocking truth for the both of you, sickening and cruel. Your near damned fated reality, Coriolanus’ worst fears, the peaceful baby resting in the bassinet besides the two of you.
Pressed into the side of your hospital bed, Coriolanus held you carefully, a stilled reminder that you were still there, that you hadn’t left him. The icy wall he’d built high for his son melted with every soft coo and whisper you gave him, a reminder that you were still with him and would be.
When Coryo finally held Cyrene again, when he’d stirred awake and you were asleep, he turned to the window overlooking Panem’s Capitol, eyes shining with tears- of regret, joy, pain? Even Coryo wasn’t sure, but he rocked his son to sleep carefully, promising him that one day, he’d have what Coryo had. That he wouldn’t leave him the way his father had, that he’d keep him safe, teach him how to keep you safe.
future problems (pt. 2) -- coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader
me, after posting a one-shot: “ok i won't do a part two”
me, a few days later: *posts a part two*
howdy y'all ;) back with everyone's favorite toxic white man of the month
this part is based on this anonymous request -- love you anon :) xox
find part one here
summary: reader finds out she's pregnant and has to tell the scariest man in panem -- her husband, president snow
as always, warnings: smut!, pregnancy sex, coriolanus snow is a fucking warning in himself, he’s a dick here, fem!reader, p in v sex, mommy and daddy kink just trust me ok)
barely edited we die like men
anyways... here is future problems (pt. 2):
......
he was told by a servant a month before you told him.
he couldn't believe it.
you had not bled last month.
it's not that he was mad... but he wanted to be told by you. he wanted you to be the first one to tell him. it was important to him — trust and loyalty, especially from you. he had allowed you to get close to him, physically and emotionally, and he deserved that same respect.
he couldn't believe you had kept it from him.
you. of all people. you.
how fucking could you?
it had been a total of six weeks since he had been told by the servant.
it wracked his brain like it was the fever that debilitated him for weeks. it gnawed at him, it scratched at him, and it fucking demanded every ounce of energy from him that he possessed. that sort of pain, betrayal — it insisted on being felt and dealt with immediately, no matter what needed to be taken care of first. corio coriolanus couldn't believe he had honestly trusted you, or even thought you were worthy of some amount of trust... and he couldn't believe he, for even a second, allowed either of you to live in that facade.
never again, he reasoned. never again.
on the day after the six week marker, there was a knock on his office door.
his lips fell into a grimace before he forced it to remain even — calm. no emotion shown. not anymore.
“come in,” he spoke.
his eyes fell to the papers on his desk, where he continued to write and edit his memorandum. his eyes traced the words he wrote, but he was barely focused on what he was writing. the only thing he could hear was the sound of your footsteps entering his office.
“corio?” you asked quietly, smiling, as you stepped through his door.
inside, he flinched at his nickname. coriolanus, he wanted to correct.
he did not raise his head. “…yes?”
he could not see you — but he knew that you noticed his flat demeanor.
it affected your own.
he couldn’t see that — but he knew. he fucking knew.
it wasn’t the first time he had been cold to you, but enough time had past where he reasoned that this would be the solidifying moment of your opinion of him. he knew that you knew he was upset about something. what else could have changed his demeanor?
“i-i wanted to… tell you something,” you replied, voice wavering.
he could tell you were working hard to ignore the obvious signs that something had shifted between the two of you. he knew, he knew, and he knew — but he didn’t care. he couldn’t care. why should he, when you didn’t?
“yes..?” he replied once more, this time sighing.
his eyes met yours.
your resolve immediately fell. though slight, he could see that whatever confidence you had possessed had faded from your face. it was gone… and coriolanus didn’t have the resolve to replenish it. neither did you have the strength to fake it.
he saw you begin to pick at your fingernails — another nervous habit of yours he had noticed.
however, this was a new one. once the pair of you shared a kiss — you were rarely seen pulling at the skin of your lips and your usage of lip moisturizer had increased. he appreciated it, at the time — but now? now it was a reminder of what once was. with new bad habits came the alert of the passage of time — and the alert of bonds breaking.
he couldn’t deal. he just couldn’t.
“what is it?” coriolanus demanded, eyes blinking.
your lips parted in confusion, and your brows scrunched right with them. there was hurt in your eyes, and splattered across your cheeks in a pink hue. your cheeks were usually flushed with graciousness or from alcohol — but this was embarrassment. hurt. rejection.
he didn’t care anymore, especially not when he admitted to himself that a part of him loved seeing your face and confidence fall. if he was going to fall, you were going straight down with him.
down, down, down.
“i’m with child,” you responded, appearing to struggle to catch your breath.
there it was. the admission.
he clenched his jaw. his eyes focused on your face — and how the tears began to collect in your eyes. the rejection he was sending towards you was even being felt by him — and he almost felt bad. to see a woman he so blindly trusted, who thought she could outsmart him — play the part of a hurt and broken hearted woman so well.
he did not smile. he did not laugh. he did not even get up. he simply stared at her — silently.
“i take it you are not happy at this announcement,” she responded, voice barely wavering. “i-i would’ve thought…”
coriolanus watched as you placed a gentle hand over your stomach — almost in a protective manner.
“how long have you known?” he asked.
“i took the pregnancy test today,” you responded.
coriolanus’ jaw tightened. he was not expecting that, especially not after the news he was given. “…but you’ve known for some time. you must have — given how you chose today to take the test, and don’t seem as surprised as you thought i would be.”
you narrowed your eyes at him. “…no, coriolanus. i didn’t. i had hopes, yes, but… i took the test as soon as i thought reasonable. you’re the first person i’ve told.”
confusion and hurt. that was all you felt. it encased your body like it was trying its best to cast you from the room — placing a heavy boundary between you and your husband. husband… if you could even call him that. your lips began to twist in a grimace as emotions began to well up inside you.
“tell me why i have displeased you,” you spoke, voice threatening to break. you took a step towards his desk and kept one hand firmly on your belly. your eyes, red and wet, bore into his and refused to leave him. “i thought you would be overjoyed. i-i thought…”
“you claim i was the first person you told,” he spat, holding your glare. “but i was not the first person to assume.”
you scrunched your eyebrows at him… but then you realized. it hit you like a ton of bricks. you bit the inside of your cheek, drawing blood, before stating, “your spies.”
coriolanus narrowed his eyes. it was not an issue that she knew… but he didn’t understand how she could know, nor for how long. spies were useful when their identity and presence was not apparent, and therefore he considered his current spies failures — to be dealt with later. at the moment… he had other matters.
“you might want to elaborate on that statement if you’re going to act like it’s something profound,” he spat, standing and snapping his journal closed.
coriolanus stood behind his desk and pushed in his chair. you watched him as he struggled to keep everything together, neat and tidy.
your face was red and hot, and you weren’t sure if it was due to the pregnancy or the betrayal. how could he? how could he?! there you stood, trying to remain collected — but it proved useless. through your tears, you spat, “a woman is supposed to wait before telling everyone she’s pregnant — god forbid she loses the baby before it’s viable. i waited the standard amount of time most women are practically born knowing to wait. if your spy is going to make my cycle their business, they should at least understand basic fucking female biology, coriolanus, or your spies and their intel are fucking useless!”
you didn’t wait to hear his response. you left the room.
he stared at the oak door out of entitlement — it should open once more, and reveal his wife.
the mother of his child…
he had never considered… things of that nature. tests. waiting periods. hormones.
incompetence. that of his spies — nor his own.
he didn’t understand any of it.
however, he did understand one thing…
he had to deal with the useless spy.
…and that would happen before he approached you.
that approach occurred approximately an hour and a half later. he would have found you sooner, but the spy had… taken more time than anticipated. afterwards — there he stood, at your door, with a tray of food in his hands for the both of you.
his knuckles wrapped on the door.
there were no footsteps.
they wrapped again.
still, no footsteps.
once more.
…and, still, nothing.
he couldn’t believe this.
he went to knock a fourth time, but before he could — the door swung open.
to reveal you in the doorway.
your eyes were blown wide with anger, but the rest of your face did not show emotion. you glared at the man before you, which unsettled your husband,
he picked you because you were unproblematic — but had gotten lucky with the fact that your company was so pleasant. you were not loud, annoying, mean, bold, disrespectful, disobedient, or anything of the sort — but he did not expect this.
he did not expect you… to hold a grudge against him, much less stand up for yourself.
he stood there silently — dumbstruck.
“i would slam this door in your face if you weren’t the president,” you spat lowly. “please do not make me forget formalities.”
“i brought you dinner,” he spoke, ignoring you. “please… join me.”
you raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “you’ve been ignoring me for weeks, when i tried to convince myself you were just busy. you can handle another night of dining alone.”
you went to shut the door, but he stopped it with his foot. your eyes lowered to where his toe was in the doorway, and traveled up to where his eyes were. as per usual, his facial expressions were flat, save for determined. he always had a goal in mind… and refused to change it until he succeeded.
you sighed. you had had enough.
“i’m not doing this tonight,” you bit. “i show you every ounce of respect that i know you expect of me. i have been patient, kind, gentle — but i can’t meet you halfway right now. not after that. leave. please.”
there coriolanus went. searching your eyes once more, like he had done long ago. his jaw clenched once, twice, three times before it finally settled. he did not remove his foot before he spoke once more.
“why didn’t you tell me immediately?” he imposed.
there was a hint of pleading in his voice. your breath began to quicken with anxiety. out of exhaustion and frustration, completely forgetting your station, you rolled your eyes at your husband before responding.
“what if i was wrong, coriolanus?” you spat, your eyes were narrowed. “why would i tell the most powerful and scary man that runs panem — that i am pregnant with his child, if i am not one hundred percent sure? to get your hopes up for nothing, if, god forbid, i lose it?”
he didn’t respond.
you threw your hands up in exasperation. a silent cry left your lips in the form of a broken inhale. your hormones were running rabid — coursing through your veins and filling you with frustration.
you locked your teary eyes with him once more. trying to keep your voice quiet, you hissed, “your spies aren’t exactly discreet. i’ve known about them since my first day here. your spies — they’ve never reported i’ve done anything wrong because i have never done anything wrong. it’s not like i can hide anything here, either — they’re everywhere. nothing is a secret — even a private moment between husband and wife, like a wife finally being able to tell her husband that she’s sure she’s pregnant with his child. i have given you everything you’ve ever requested of a wife, yet there you sat — throwing silent insults in my face.”
there went the boundary.
up and sturdy.
layer after layer of brick and cement. your trust and love for him crumbled with each new layer, until you couldn’t see the man you once adore beyond the wall. the man before you frustrated you so much that you forgot what it was like to look upon his face and feel nervous excitement at the prospect of seeing him smile. you wanted to slam the door in his face, placing two boundaries up — a real one, and an emotional one.
one that would prevent you from ever being so stupid again — from ever letting him close to you, for ever thinking this could work.
stupid, you thought. stupid, stupid, stupid.
but coriolanus corio would have none of that.
he was a man of formalities and manners, but your husband actually pushed his way through.
you stumbled backwards in surprise. your husband had guards for doing his dirty work — not the shoulder of his new and crisp suit.
he shoved the tray of food on a nearby table, ratting the walls and the contents on each surface. you placed a protective hand over your stomach and watched him — waiting for his next move.
“i said get out, coriolanus!” you spat. your gaze was fiery red, and now there were angry tears in your eyes. corio could see the hormones flowing from every opening in your skin they could find — even smell them. “i refuse to speak to you!”
“the father of your child?” he spoke evenly, walking towards you. “your husband?”
you took a step back for every step he took forward. “you were more concerned with the secret kept than the actual chance of life!”
“i thought you were keeping the chance of being happy about a child from me,” he spoke, bitterness instinctually falling from his perfect lips. “you can’t forget — we barely know each other —“
“and who’s fault is that?!”
he stopped. his jaw tightened. he stared down at you and wondered where all of this fury had come from.
him. it came from him. the realization struck him similar to how other pieces of information had been striking him later. in the chest or face, whichever hurt more — and forcing his breath to catch in his lungs. never to reach his throat, let alone his lips.
he couldn’t keep going on like this — watching and waiting. watching others for their mistakes, and waiting for the correct moment to… correct them. at the very least… he couldn’t with you — not with you.
“i committed a wrong against you,” he spat before he could think about it.
you scrunched your eyebrows in disbelief. apologies were rare in the capital, and admissions of guilt were almost as scarce. you stared at him, still consumed with rage — but now confusion began to creep upon you. and where there is confusion… there is always curiosity.
you didn’t respond. you clenched your jaw at his words, but that was the only response he received.
“i did,” he reaffirmed, stepping closer to you. you drew back a step — not far, but still a step. he continued, “when i had heard what my spy had relayed to me — i should have asked you.”
you had three options. ignore him, yell at him, or hear him out. did he deserve the first two? yes. did you have every right to do either of the two, or both? yes, of course. however… were they worth it in the long run?
that was the question that now ate at you.
you had every right to put up the same emotional barrier you had worked so hard to tear down with coriolanus. his? who knows why he insisted on making his hurt everyone else’s problem. yours? he was an elite asshole, but… you were married to him. he was the president of panem. he was the most ruthless man in all of panem.
and you loved him.
you really, really did.
that was why his distrust for you hurt so bad.
it wasn’t about seeking approval anymore — because you thought you had it, or at least had come to close to it. once given that, you felt safe enough, well… to feel safe. to feel safety, trust, respect, reliability… and love. love.
the fucking bastard made you love him.
with reluctance, you took a step forward. “you should have, coriolanus.”
his jaw tightened as he also took a step forward. “corio — please, my love.”
you scoffed out of reflex and threw your stare to the side. you began to rub at your stomach, hoping to quell your own anxiety. there were a million insults waiting to leap from your tongue and latch onto his face, chest, throat — anything to hurt him or get him to fuck off. however, you swallowed them.
“i would do anything for you,” you stammered, trying to keep emotion out of your voice. “i have proved that time and time again.”
he took a step closer. “i know.”
“i know better than to keep something substantial from you,” you replied. “god forbid it was a fluke…”
another step closer. “i know.”
“i have done everything i can to prove that i am loyal to you, and only you,” you spoke, your voice wavering. “in the future, i ask that you approach me first — yell at me, fuck, i couldn’t care less — just as long as you don’t ignore me. anything, corio — just don’t push me away.
he laughed then, only a foot away from you now. the tears in your eyelids hadn’t hit your cheeks yet, but they threatened to. he reached forward and cupped your face in both of his hands. he leaned down due to your height difference and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“i know,” he repeated. “and i promise — i will try my best to not push you away.”
“okay,” you nodded, sniffling.
“never heard such coarse words from my perfect wife,” corio attempted to break the tension.
you chuckled then, wiping away any moisture from your eyes. “there were more — trust me.”
“i would have deserved them.”
your eyes flickered up to his them, searching his irises for answers like he did to you. you weren’t sure how he did it — but he could find every lie or fact inside someone’s eyes. that trait had not found its way to you.
but maybe it would to your child.
“i want to hear you say it again,” you whispered, now meeting his eyes. “i want to hear you say that you promise you will try your best to never push me away again.”
“i promise,” he spoke, nodding.
you refused to stare into his eyes at his admission. if he wasn’t a good liar, you didn’t want to know — not in that moment.
"am i allowed to kiss the mother of my child now?" he asked with a smirk.
you glared at him. "you would've —"
"shhh," he cooed, before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.
one of his hands slid to the back of your head and cradled the bottom of your skull. he wrapped his free arm around your back, pulling you into him. the kiss, you couldn't explain it — it — it...
it was like he swallowed you.
there was no place for you to move, but then again — why would you want to? you body was perfectly molded to fit his, in every way he wanted you to bend to him. his warmth, his scent, his taste — it all coaxed your senses into such a feeling of satisfaction that you weren't sure where it started or ended. it held your consciousness in warmth and safety — something rare in the capital. the only thing that mattered to you was that you were in your husband's arms and the kiss did not stop.
"so pleased with you," he mumbled against your mouth. "a child..."
warmth bubbled within the lower half of your body. praise, from a man like corio... any woman's weakness.
you hummed into the kiss, rubbing your hands up and down his chest. "going to be so proud of their father, the president."
the groan that emitted from his chest was deep and guttural — so masculine. it made every hair on the back of your neck stand at attention, waiting for a direction from the man before you. you began to finger his top button, hoping... hinting...
"sweetheart," he spoke, pulling away. "as much as i want to, i am not sure whether —"
"i think i'm fine," you gushed, only realizing after how desperate you might have sounded. "we might as well — especially before i become too big to breathe."
he stiffened as he held you. you immediately grew worried.
"what's wrong?" you softly asked, rubbing his chest.
he shook his head. "nothing —" he stopped for a moment, appearing to contemplate something. "it's just — i was imagining —"
you looked up at him curiously, hoping he would elaborate. his eyes immediately flew to your lips — perfect and plump, a match for his. you smirked.
you had him. “what were you imagining, husband?”
his jaw clenched again as his eyes widened. “my pretty wife has become so much more bold since i met her.”
you smiled up at him, hoping that he found it amusing more than disreepctful. one of his hands found your cheek as his thumb caressed the skin. your eyes were big as they gazed up at your husband, keening into his silent praise.
“i disagree with you, wife,” he spoke. “too big to bed —“ he scoffed before leaning down to your ear, your words rolling with disgust off his tongue. his lips brushed against the skin of your lobe before he spoke, “i’ll have a hard time keeping my hands to myself when the mother of my children will swell with me inside of her.”
your eyes, still wide, were frozen on corio’s. mischief danced in his irises, like a snake coiling around its prey. air left his nostrils in a small, sudden gush — amusement. the look that played on his face depicted the power imbalance — but, then again, how stupid could you be to ever think you would have control over your husband for a substantial amount of time?
he grasped your chin in his fingers before your lips parted. you were at his mercy — to be bent to his will. his head bent towards you before he spoke.
“you think you’ll repulse me — when my seed takes inside you, and it shows?” he asked. his eyes searched yours — but what yours reveal that he didn’t already know? he had you. he had you, and there was nothing you could do about it. “my naive, little wife… i don’t expect i’ll allow you to leave the bedroom much when that time comes.”
christ, you thought. your breath began to quicken as his words settled upon you. in a soft voice, you replied, “you leave me speechless, husband.”
he wickedly smiled then. “get on the bed, sweetheart. making up for lost time is in order, wouldn’t you agree?”
you couldn’t help yourself. you should’ve listened to him — but how could you, when he smelled so good, spoke so nicely, and was so close? you rolled onto your toes just enough to be able to press a kiss to your husband’s lips, and wrap your arms around his neck.
the angle was annoying for corio, who thought pulling you into his arms would be better use of his strength — especially if you weren’t going to listen. his large hands held your ass, supporting your weight as you leaned into his touch. your breasts, arched into his chest, were the only barrier that kept you two apart. there was nothing like a kiss from corio — heat, lips, teeth, spit. all of it melted into one.
“you missed me… didn’t you, sweetheart?”
“yes,” you spoke, breathlessly. “so much, corio.”
“i was so mean —“ he replied, in between kisses. “wasn’t i? neglecting my perfect wife. a good husband would have to make up for that.”
you hummed in agreement, almost breaking into a whine. “kiss me, corio. missed you so much…“
it was like he swallowed you. body, lips, breath, emotions — all of it. once yours, but now his. all his. your body temperature increased with every fold of his lips against yours. heat pricked at the tips of your cheeks, the back of your neck, and your lower back. your fingertips, tingling, made quick work of his buttons to strip him of his clothing.
he couldn’t deal with how slow and gentle your fingers were. he loved you and how gentle you were — but when his cock was straining against his pants? the head of his cock, so red it was almost purple, leaking at the sight of his redeemed, perfect, pregnant wife? begging for him?
you were fucked. so fucked.
he should've been disgusted at the thought of fucking his wife while the babe sat protected inside your womb. however, nothing could stop corio from rejoicing at the fact that you had never done him wrong when you had actually presented him with a gift, also showing the utmost protection for it.
you fell back against the bed, your back awkwardly landing on the edge. you couldn't stand or lay back perfectly balanced, therefore relying on your husband to hold you upright and your grip of his clothes.
"my perfect wife —" he moaned into your neck, mouthing at your clammy skin. he had shoved his hand into your panties, finding you already soaked. "glowing as a mother —"
it was like you were both succumbing to the heat and haze of all-consuming lust. your hot breaths added to the humidity in the air, making your embrace with corio feel like a sauna. he couldn't rip your lace stockings off fast enough as you struggled to hold your balance.
your husband loomed over you as one large hand cupped the back of your head. his long, talented fingers on his other hand drew rough circles on your sensitive bud and you couldn't contain your cries. it had been so long. so, so long. the feeling of loneliness and lust had dissipated and was replaced by satiation. you need corio's hot, and husky breath groaning against your ear and all of your muscles holding you up and in place, forced to take everything he could give you. tears began to well up in your eyes at the thought of not only having your corio back, but for the lonely need for intimacy to also leave you.
he laughed darkly. "you're so close already, aren't you?"
you whined, struggling to regain your composure as you fought through embarrassment. "it's just been — so long —"
"how would you feel if i took it away, little dove?" he asked, eyes taunting. "how helpless would you feel? — how much of a mess would you make?"
"don't take it away from me, corio, please —" frustration was eating at you as you held onto him. he was so far away, then so close, and he was threatening to pull away as if it was a game. your feelings, your safety, you — all a game to him.
the hand on the back of your head left you to grasp at your chin as tears rolled down your face. your teeth were firmly planted in your bottom lip as you struggled against his touch. the rope in your womb was being wrapped so tightly that you felt the strands would snap at any moment, but you knew he would pull away. his eyes, dark and boring into yours, spoke for him — you were right. it was a game, and he was loving it.
"tell me it was worth it — for this," he rasped, eyes still locked on you. "tell me all of the pain i caused you was worth it — for this."
you were writhing against his hold at this point, grinding your hips down onto his hand as you whined against his lips. you were pulling at the fabric adorning his shoulders, hoping to rip it from him — hoping to make him feel as strung out as you felt.
"it was all worth it," you croaked. "all worth it for how good this feels."
"i'll never leave you again," he promised, his movements now becoming more rough on your core. "tell me you love it. tell me you love me."
"i love you, corio — !" you cried, pressing the sides of your noses together so your lips were barely touching. "i love it so much — please, don't stop —"
"that's it, doll —" he groaned. "cry for me. do it — cry."
something snapped inside of you.
your eyes closed, and your vision went black.
your throat went hoarse from the sob that left your mouth.
your lips were ragged with how your teeth ripped into them.
but you? oh, god — you felt so full.
corio's palm rubbed against your clit as his fingers entered you, pressing into that deep spot only he could find. you rode his hand like satisfaction was the only thing that mattered to you. greed and gluttony — want and need. none of it mattered.
"mommy feels so good now, doesn't she?" corio whispered into your ear. "just needed what only daddy could give her. — s'all right — just keep cumming, darling."
"fuck, corio —" you whined, buzzing with overstimulation.
he clicked his tongue at you. "such a naughty mouth on you. i'll teach you."
and he meant it.
he immediately withdrew from you — letting you fall onto the floor with both hands on the sheets, facing the bed. you almost scrambled to get back up, until you heard corio's pants drop from behind you. he kicked open your knees, and found himself with your perfect round ass pressing into his cock. he pressed the front of you into the bed, and snaked a arm around your throat.
you felt the tip of his cock prod at your wet and swollen lips before he slipped his length inside of you. you tried to lean forward into his thrust, but corio didn't like that. with a hand wrapped around your throat, he pulled you backwards against him.
the angle made your shiver. the tip of his cock began to hit the wall right behind your clit, making your head go dizzy. his finger found the corner of your lips, dipping inside your mouth. he pulled at the corner, forcing you to look up at him.
"so helpless — so perfect —" he groaned, rutting into you. his head held you perfectly in place for his total control. "can't believe i let myself miss out on the chance to breed my perfect wife. so perfect, aren't you?"
you didn't know what to say. your head was swimming. you were barely down from your first orgasm and now corio was forcing another onn you. hormones, emotions, and sensations were running wild inside your body and you weren't sure how to make sense of the fever. coupled with his own frenzy, you were a mess. a rubber band, for him to snap and play with whenever he liked.
"i asked you a question," he snapped. "you're perfect, aren't you?"
you hesitated, working through insecurity as lust overtook your mind. mumbling, due to the finger in your mouth, you spoke, "perfect."
corio stared down at you in awe. your hair was a mess, as was the rest of you. your face was flushed, your lips were swollen, but your eyes... oh, your eyes... corio was a sick bastard. the look of any sight of wetness in your eyes during sex made his cock so hard he could explode. crying with need was a feeling corio would never let himself feel, no matter how much he wanted to let it overtake him. he wouldn't let himself feel it, but he couldn't hide the fact that he loved the vulnerability you showed when you wanted him. needed him. craved him. his thrusts weren't rough because he hated you, but because he knew that need all too well.
"keep crying for me," he rasped, letting his tongue fall past your ragged lips. "so pretty when you're a mess."
there was nothing like it — being held so tightly you couldn't move and being forced to accept the pleasure and satisfaction only corio could give you. draining you of every negative emotion you had ever felt to replace all of it with animalistic give and take. his own throaty groans were being swallowed by you, as his hips snapped relentlessly against yours.
"make me a mommy, corio," you whispered. "wan' it so badly."
his grip tightened around you as he shook with pleasure. with three thrusts and a heavy groan, he let all of his spend leak inside of you and paint your walls. you felt his rough voice against your ear, mouth obscenities as satisfaction overtook him. you hadn't came again, but you didn't care — not when the air still felt so warm and soft.
that was until you felt a hand find your clit with his softening cock still inside you.
you knew how sensitive he was, and you should've care — but you didn't. all you could think about was giving into how good his fingers felt against you, still feeling so full. the thought of him also being so sensitive while you rode his cock pricked at your senses, relishing in the fact that you were giving him a taste of his own medicine as you came around his cock.
"greedy fucking wife — !" he seethed, anger spewing from his lips as he struggled to fuck you back with his oversensitive cock. you knew it was so red that it was purple and swollen, hating you but loving every bit of you at the same time. you should've cared, but you didn't. not when you knew it felt so good for the both of you, his whines in your ear telling you everything. with one final groan against you, he spoke, "you're never leaving this fucking bedroom — i'll tie you to the bed if i have to, do you fucking understand?!"
all you could do was stare up at him with awe and tears in your eyes.
his mouth parted at the sight. with his cock still inside you, you still riding his softening cock as you rode out your orgasm, nothing was prettier. nothing fulfilled your corio more. with one last kiss, he spoke, "just as evil as me, aren't you?"
you giggled. "i love you, too."
---
if you're wondering if i went batshit insane i did HAHA hope you enjoyed
(young president!coriolanus x young!f!plinth!reader)
summary: the president takes notice of Sejanus’ much younger sister, at one of his galas, and cannot let her go.
cw: plinth!reader, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, sejanus lives (and is still friends with coryo), age-gap (coryo is 28, reader is are 18), strabo is a shitty father, sweet!coryo (but only to you), heavy smut, creampie, soft sex, pet names (little one, little dove, darling, etc), cuddling, lmk if i missed anything!
Your eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the Presidential Mansion, a stark contrast to the still-setting sun outside. Your arm is tightly linked with your brother, Sejanus’ arm, as you make your way to the table. You don’t know anyone at this event, not really.
You’re far too young, the next youngest people at the gala are brother’s age, and even still, Sej is 10 years older than you. It makes you feel queasy, knowing most of these men in attendance are nearly old enough to be your father, and they are all staring at you.
Staring at you like you’re a fine piece of meat, and they’re starving for a taste.
You sit down next to your brother, and quickly survey the other guests seated at your table. Clemensia Dovecoat, Festus Creed, Livia Cardew, Persephone Price. All your brother’s age, no one younger. You want to shrink back into your seat, become invisible.
You have no idea why your brother invited you to attend this Gala with him, but you have a feeling it was not with the purest intentions. As you graduated from the Academy, both your parents and your brother were pushing for you to find a suitor, to further better the Plinth name. Frankly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to give a damn, you were far more worried about being successful at the University to find a husband.
“Hello.” A familiar, yet unfamiliar voice breaks you from your reverie. Coriolanus Snow, or should I say President Snow, you think. You couldn’t lie to yourself, he was a very attractive man. Having been very young when your brother began bringing him around to your family’s manor, you only had some vague memories of Coriolanus, however, he has been a close friend to Sejanus, so he’s been around your vicinity for years.
I wouldn’t mind marrying him, your thoughts betray every fiber of your being, who you are. You are an independent woman, you don’t need a man, you need to do well at the University, and score a job. Not fawn over the President of Panem. Oh well, you think, he wouldn’t want anything to do with someone as young as me.
“Hello, Coriolanus.” Your brother greets him warmly, then lightly touching your arm, “I don’t know if you remember my sister, Y/N, but I’ve invited her as my guest tonight.”
“Hello, Mister President.” You say, wanting to roll your eyes at the pomposity of the statement you just spoke. You quickly scanned Coriolanus, and you were not disappointed. Blonde hair slicked back, beautiful blue eyes, a tight crimson suit that perfectly accented the muscular frame you were sure was underneath it.
“No need for the formalities, Ms. Plinth, just call me Coryo.” He responds, giving you (and your body) a quick glance in return. You want to blush at his actions, but you restrain yourself.
“Then call me Y/N, Coryo, Ms. Plinth is much too formal for me.” You bite back, cracking him a smile. He returns it, before turning to your brother.
“Mind if I borrow your sister for a dance, Sej?” He asks your brother, missing the wicked glare that Livia sends you. You’re not sure why she’s upset with you. You knew the President was a single man, which was a rarity in the politicians in Panem. But, you’re no where near his age range. He wouldn’t want you like that, right? He would want someone like Livia, perfect and his age.
“Of course not, thank you for being so kind to her. She’s a little overwhelmed with the gala, as is to be expected. She’s never been to one this formal before.” Sejanus tells Coryo, and you smile weakly, standing up, wobbling slightly in the heels that were a little too high for you.
Coriolanus rounds the table, grasping your hand lightly in his much larger one, leading you to the dance floor in the center of the room. He circles his arms around your waist easily, and you reach up to circle yours around his neck. He begins swaying you gently in time with the music before opening his mouth to speak.
“I don’t remember Sejanus mentioning that he had such a beautiful sister.” He whispers to you, leaning his head down so you could hear his words. He was well over a half a foot taller than you, even with you in your heels. That thought was dizzying.
You blush in response to his words, ducking your head. But you don’t stay that way for any more than a moment, as he brings two of his fingers under your chin, before lifting your chin up, to meet his gaze. “I mean it, dove. You’re simply stunning.”
The flattery was almost too sickly sweet, but you relished in it. “Thank you, Coryo.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say, you had never been in a situation like this. Sure, the boys from the Academy thought you were pretty, but they were nothing compared to the President of Panem.
“You are very welcome, darling. Tell me, how old are you? I cannot remember your dear brother ever mentioning your age.” There it is, you thoughts begin ruining the moment, he will no longer be interested in you once he finds out you are so young.
“I just turned eighteen, I am set to become a student at the University in the fall.” You look into his eyes, expecting to see something, a wavering of interest, anything. But instead, you see nothing.
“I see.” Is all he says, continuing to sway to the music, holding you. His grip tightens lightly, as more people make their way to the dance floor, like he doesn’t want to lose you to someone else, some other man. Like anyone would dare attempt to snatch you away from the President of all people.
“I was expecting you to be a bit older,” He continues, giving you another look, throughly analyzing every part of your body, “Especially when Strabo mentioned to me a potential love match in his darling daughter.”
It’s like a bomb has gone off, shattering your world around you. Of course he wasn’t really interested in you, foolish girl, you think. It was set up, so you could finally find the suitable husband your father had been discussing since it had been deemed socially acceptable to do so.
“A potential… what?” You spat out, not harshly, just in surprise. You couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Love match, darling. But, you may be just a bit too young for me.” He tells you, shattering your heart just a bit. You knew he was too old for you, no matter the attraction you felt for him. Not to mention that your father was simply trying to better the position of the family name by attempting to marrying you off to him.
You weren’t sure what to feel. You wanted Coriolanus, in ways a woman of your social standing shouldn’t. Especially given the age difference that was present between the two of you, however, there was no denying his pure masculine beauty. There was still that thought in the back of your mind that by engaging yourself with Coriolanus, you would be pleasing your father and his wishes for you. In this moment, you knew everything you felt about Coryo would override the disdain you had for pleasing your father.
“I’m not too young.” You almost whine back at him, a light pout forming on your lips as you stare into his impossibly blue eyes. You didn’t want him to see you as too young, you wanted him to see you as just another woman. Who cares that he was nearly ten years older than you?
“Is that so, princess?” He chastises you jokingly, before continuing, “You said you were eighteen, right?” He waits for you to nod, then resumes, “Well, do the arithmetic, little one. If I am twenty eight, and you are eighteen, that leaves us with a ten year difference.”
“I don’t care about that Coryo.” You find yourself frustrated. You wanted him, especially after all of the praise he had given you. Right now, in this moment, the ten years between the two of you didn’t matter. “I find myself rather attracted to you.” You tell him, honestly.
“Is that so, little one?” He asks, smirking at your words. He knew he could mold you into the perfect little wife, so young, so innocent still, unlike the women his age, who already knew what they wanted and simply wanted him for the money and glory that came along with marrying the President.
“Yes, please. I want you. My father was right, about the potential love match. Please, don’t leave me to marry some other man that isn’t twice the man that you are. I know I am young, but that doesn’t matter. I’m old enough to know what I want. Please, Coryo.”
You beg him, not sure exactly why you wanted him so bad. You had just really met him after all. But he was so attractive, so powerful. Something about him enticed you, and you didn’t want to let it go before anything could even potentially happen, before you could see where it progressed between the two of you.
“If you’re so sure, little one. However, this is a conversation we should have somewhere more private, away from prying eyes.” He tells you, raising your hopes ever so slightly. He wasn’t outwardly telling you no, and that you were absolutely too young for him.
Silently, he seizes swaying instead turning you so that you are pressed tightly to his side, one arm firmly grasped around your back, the other arm falling to his side as he led you out the doors to the ballroom, further into the Mansion, and into what you could only assume was his bedroom, gently closing and locking the door behind him, not unnoticed by you.
He is silent for a moment, before speaking, “You mentioned other men. You are going to be mine, little dove. No other men matter to you. I’ve been aware of your age this whole night, and your father and I have been discussing this chance meeting between us for some time now.”
You want to feel disappointed, or disgusted. Your father and Coriolanus, going behind your back, planning your future without a say from you. Planning when you would meet, when would be the right time. You had so many thoughts swirling in your head, it was overwhelming.
“How. Long.” You spat out at him, visibly upset. You wanted him, sure. But if he had been going behind your back, and truly knew of you well before you knew of him, you weren’t as sure. It felt almost predatory, knowing you were barely legal.
“Just over a year, darling.” His words made you want to vomit. Before you were legal. Your father, planning a marriage to a man ten years your senior, when you weren’t even legally able to be married, or have intercourse. You started to sway on your feet, feeling faint. You couldn’t believe it.
Coriolanus reached out a strong arm, steadying you, before grasping your hand and pulling you to sit on the edge of the bed. With you sitting, and he standing, the height difference became even more pronounced. You had to crane your neck to meet his eyes, even when you did not want to.
“A year.” You started, thinking for a moment, choosing your next words carefully. “My father has been meeting with you for a year, to discuss marriage. When I wasn’t even legal!” You yelled at him from your seated position, not feeling stable enough to attempt standing.
“I know it’s wrong, little one. And I am sorry. I only learned of you not being eighteen last night. This entire time, up until last night, I thought you were already eighteen, or older. Your father never mentioned your exact birthday, only that you were of marriage age.”
Your rage for Coriolanus dissipated, the only anger that remained was for your father. You couldn’t take it out on Coryo, who didn’t know you were underage for most of the planning, not until it didn’t matter. He was just as innocent as you.
“It’s alright.” You kept your statement concise, not sure what else to say, without bursting out into tears. You could already feel them welling in your eyes, and you begged them not to fall.
The tears didn’t do unnoticed by Coriolanus, who looks taken aback at the thought of you crying. “Don’t cry, little one. It’s alright, I assure you. I am going to give you some space, and some time alone. You are to wait here, however. I am not forcing you, but I would prefer we continue this conversation when you are ready.”
He leans down, and presses a small kiss against the crown of your head gently before making his way toward the door, grabbing the knob.
“Wait,” You start, tears starting to fall at the thought of him leaving you alone. “Stay, please.” You beg.
“Sweetheart, I can’t. I need to give you space to think. I don’t want to force this upon you.” He tells you honestly, turning the knob.
“But why?” You state, petulant like a child. The child that you still practically are. “Just stay here, with me. I’ve already made up my mind.” You say, standing back up onto your feet, making the few steps to the door, grasping his upper arm gently.
“I can’t.” He says simply, not moving. He looks almost conflicted on right or wrong in this moment. Your lip begins to wobble, as you think about him leaving you.
“But why, Coryo? I already made up my mind. My father may have hid the truth about my age from you, but I want you. Please.” You plead with him, willing him to stay in this room with you.
“I’m way too old for you, my love.” Coriolanus stops turning the knob, though. Standing, waiting for you to speak again. He had to at least partially hear you out, and he wanted to know your rationale.
“And what if I don’t care if you are far too old for me?” It was your last feeble attempt at getting him to stay. If he wanted to stay, it was up to him now. You weren’t going to plead with him, he was a grown man.
“I can see how much you would prefer it if I stay.” He says with a sigh, pulling you into his arms, his warm embrace surrounding you with a feeling you had never acted upon before.
“Coryo,” You whisper, “I want you. I want you so bad.” His eyes widen in surprise at your words, confused on what exactly you meant by wanting him.
“What do you mean, little one?” He doesn’t get the chance to do anything but whisper back that sentence before you were leaning up on your tiptoes, and your lips pressed against his, hard. He doesn’t fight you, quickly kissing back.
He adjusts you so that your back is up against the door, and your fronts are pressed together tightly, without breaking the kiss. He runs his hand along the curves of your waist, before bringing his hands to cup your ass lightly. You let out a gasp, and he uses that to his advantage and slips his tongue into your mouth, tongues tangling.
He then drops his hands to below your knees, sweeping you into his arms, and carrying you back to the bed. He disconnects the kiss, with a whine falling from your lips, lightly setting you down on the bed.
“Are you sure, little dove? I can stop if you aren’t sure.” You appreciated his concern in this moment, but all you wanted was him. You vocalized that to him, and he smiled. He pulled you, so that your feet were dangling off the edge of the bed, where he was still standing. Getting down on his knees at your feet, he gently unbuckled the heel, and removed it from your foot, one foot at a time. As he removed the shoe, he ran a hand over the soft skin, before pressing a kiss to the sole of your foot.
He kissed his way up your legs, up to your thighs, being met with the skirt of your dress. He flipped the skirt up, over your hips, and met your eyes again as his hands made their way to the edge of your underwear.
“Still alright, little one?” He asked, thumbs in the band of the underwear, waiting for permission to pull them down. You nodded at him, with a weak grin. Coriolanus smiled back at you, before pulling the panties down your legs, over your ankles.
He spread your legs, so that your wet heat was visible to him. He grinned, before leaning down and licking a teasing stripe up your pussy, You moaned lewdly, legs closing around his head, locking him in place. He continued his broad licks, eventually moving to circle your clit until you were twitching. He stuck his tongue inside of your hole a few times, and that was enough. You gushed around his tongue, quickly becoming overstimulated and pushing his head away.
As he brought his head out from between your thighs, you noticed his face was covered in your juices, and you laughed. He cracked a smile at you, allowing you to breathe for a few moments together. He gently helped you to your feet, to your confusion for a moment, until he spun you so that he could unzip your dress.
Once you were fully bared to him, dress gently placed on a chair in the corner, he began to undress for you. The suit jacket first, then the button up, revealing his pale yet well formed chest that had you licking your lips in anticipation. His shoes were toed off, and socks removed too. He leaned in and kissed you sweetly before removing his slacks and boxers, cock springing up, very obviously hard, the tip nearly purple as he looked at you.
You felt intimidated. You were a virgin, and his cock was so long, and so thick. You knew it was going to hurt, and you hoped he wouldn’t let it hurt you too bad.
“Coryo,” You whispered, “I’m a virgin.” He stopped, and looked you directly in the eyes.
“That’s alright, little one. I’ll be careful, so so gentle. I promise.” He tells you earnestly, and you smile at him, nodding. You trusted him, he had never lied to you before, not willingly.
He gently pushed you back onto the bed, before climbing on top of you, his strong forearms next to your head. He grabbed his cock, positioning it with your hole, before gently beginning to push in.
You flinched at the intrusion, body wincing at the pain from his cock splitting you open. Tears sprung back into your eyes, and he stopped pushing in, giving you a moment to adjust. He kissed you, making out lightly for a moment.
“You can keep going.” You said, breaking the kiss. You hissed as he kept pushing, but eventually, he was fully sheathed inside of you, and the sting had dulled down to a pressure inside of you. You looked down, and you could see a faint outline of his cock on your stomach and you smirked.
“Look, darling.” You directed him to where you were looking and he smirked back at you.
“Look at you, little one. Your body is taking me so beautifully.” He responded beginning slow, thrusts in and out, keeping tempo.
“Please, Coryo. More!” You begged him, and he began thrusting faster, pressing into a spot inside of you that made you see stars. You moaned loudly at that feeling, his cock slamming into it every time he thrust back in. You couldn’t stop letting out little noises of pleasure, it felt too good. He let out little grunts too, praising you for taking him so well, being such a good little girl.
“Rub your clit for me, darling.” He directed you, breathing becoming heavier, thrusts more erratic. You could tell he was close, but you wanted to orgasm with him. You rubbed your clit harshly, moaning, and tightening around his cock.
“I’m so close!” You cried out, circling faster as he continued to pound in and out of you.
“As am I, little one.” He grunted back. “Come for me, darling. I’ll come for you.”
You allowed yourself to come, soaking his cock with his juices, and he spurted deep inside of you. He groaned as he pulled out, immediately missing the tight warmth of your cunt.
“You did fantastic, love.” He tells you, falling nearly on top of you, worn from the excursion. You gently scratch his scalp with your fingers, soothing him.
“I should be telling you that,” You laugh, continuing to massage his head.
“You are mine now, darling.” He grunts, completely blissed out, resting his head on your chest. “Age does not matter to me, little one.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you.” You rolled your eyes, smiling at him. “I am to be yours, forever.”
“Mine.” He agrees. You don’t say anything back, basking in the afterglow. After tonight, you know that your future plans have shifted, and you couldn’t find it in you to care. You still had that independent woman in you, but now, with a powerful man by your side. You’d found yourself a wonderful man in the President of Panem, and you didn’t plan on letting him go.
