hi, guys! ✶ this is my first kinktober! i’ll be posting 21 fics throughout october, spaced out every few days. all of these pieces will be maxed out in freakness. take care of yourselves. read the tags before diving in. 18+ only. these pieces will vary in length as your girl is extremely busy!!!
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.
breeding for babies
young president!coriolanus snow & f.reader
content. dubcon towards the end, p in v.
corio under pressure for an heir + his pretty little wife...
coriolanus is deadly with his thrusts, making you positively throb around his length as he takes you over and over again. “m-mmph!” you squeal when he pushes the pads of his fingers on your clit just right, teasing you closer to the edge.
“c’mon, sweetheart,” your president coos into your ear, as sly and seductive as ever. he’s only got one thing on his mind - getting you so fucked out that you won’t notice when he pumps his load into you.
he’s got you in a mating press and everything, trying to melt you under him, so he presses at the back of your legs a little harder so he can get deeper into your guts. “shh,” he hushes you, stuffing his big fingers into your hot, wet little mouth. using all the strength you have left, you lazily suck on them between your messy moans.
“don’t worry, just give me one more n’ i’ll be done, kay?” his whispers nearly go unheard until he says, “just gotta fill you up. yeah, i got you - fuck…” your eyes change into saucers filled with tears of pleasure, making a half-hearted muffled protest that goes unheard.
“my pretty little wife, about to be a pretty little mother,” he groans as he doubles over your body, spilling into your insides, your own body already shaking with an orgasm. both his cock and his fingers slip out of you simultaneously, gooey strings of bodily fluids attatched to both appendages as he retracts from you, leaving your holes feeling completely empty.
you let out a gurgling whine as corio wipes some of your spit on his fingers on your cheek as he cups it lightly. “god, you’re going to be the prettiest mother in all of panem.”
If your husband was one thing, he was endearing. Yes, you were talking about the same Coriolanus Snow who nearly managed to freeze others with the icy impression he left.
"How did an angel like you land in my arms?", Coriolanus murmured softly against your skin. He kissed you while holding you bridal style, the hand that wasn't supporting your back were holding your heels. This was far more entertaining than the gala the two of you were previously at.
"Did you have fun?", you manage to ask between the many kisses he had left on your face.
"Fun? Darling you can't be serious, it was a bore". His hands held you perfectly, like his fingers were molded just for this. "I'm just glad it's over".
You giggle as he sits you down onto your shared bed. "I thought you were tired?"
"Never too tired for my darling". Coriolanus leaves a soft kiss on your lips.
"Look at you.. you look beautiful", you tease noticing the stain your red lipstick left on his lips as a result of kissing.
He smiles at your playfulness, "You looked radiant tonight, like a princess. My princess".
"You treat me like a princess…", you mutter softly as he helps you unzip your dress. Your heart flutters as he left yet another kiss.
"You seem tired my love, did the gala bore you that much?", the playful tone made its way back to his voice.
You smiled, ignoring his antics and slipping into your nightgown. "The heels I wore were perfect weren't they? They complimented my dress perfectly".
"They left blisters all over your feet dear".
"But they were beautiful!"
"Everything looks beautiful on you my love". He was about to excuse himself to his study to go finish up some paperwork when your head made its way to rest on his shoulder. Yes, Coriolanus did dislike galas, but he was fond of how they ended with you in his arms.
sejanus harbours an aching crush for you, a head-in-the-clouds, daydreamer, covey girl from district 12. he’s determined to show you how he feels before you get swept up by some other guy, though it’s difficult when your head is seemingly stuck in the clouds. requested here
note: um hiii my hunger games obsession (and therefore sejanus obsession) is back after finishing sotr… this fic is for me and the 3 other sejanus fans on here (the rest of you come out of hiding please)
peacekeeper!sejanus x covey!reader, 1.5k words
Sejanus has been about as obvious as a guy can be about his feelings for you, and still, you’re yet to catch on. It’s not that you’re dumb. If anything, you’re a lot smarter than him. You write music like nothing else he’s ever heard, like sunlight spun into lyrics, and half of the words you use in them he doesn’t even understand.
As smart as you are, you’ve constantly got your head in the clouds. You’re not a ditz, but you’re always daydreaming about something or other, and you don’t tend to come down from the clouds often. Because of this, you’ve been completely oblivious to his advances.
You don’t seem to notice that he’s flirting when he does, and though you’ve accepted his flowers and pretty hair ribbons with a bashful smile, he’s seen you give the same smile to guys at the Hob after one of your performances with the Covey band.
Despite himself, Sejanus has continued to try. Today he’s managed to get the morning off from his Peacekeeper duties, and he’s not going to waste it. He’s already been to the markets to spend most of his money for the week on something for you. He knows the path to your meadow like the back of his hand. It’s not far from your place, your Covey don’t like you to stray too far.
You’re exactly where he’s expecting you to be when he gets there. Right at the edge of the pond, knee deep in the tall grass, squatting to feed the ducks. They’ve just had ducklings about a week ago, and you’re enamoured by them.
“Don’t be frightened, little ducks,” you’re saying in your lovely soft voice, as Sejanus approaches from behind. He tries to be quiet, so as not to startle you or your gaggle of ducks. There’s two adult ones, and four tiny fluffy ones, all crowded around your hand, which is filled with what looks like bits of stale cracker.
As Sejanus gets closer, he accidentally steps on a branch and it snaps, breaking the silence. One of the adult ducks spots him, gives a loud quack, and they all take off across the pond, the little ones in single file following their parents.
Whoops, Sejanus thinks.
“Hello, Sejanus,” you say knowingly, without turning round. Sejanus has no idea how you know it’s him, but he can’t say he’s surprised.
He watches as you pocket the remains of your crackers and dust your hands off on your flowy skirt, then turn around to face him.
“You scared my ducks,” you say, giving him an indignant look.
He’s well aware. “Sorry. I don’t think they like me.”
You shrug, then lift your skirt, the bottom hem stained with mud, and start wading through the grass towards him. “They would if you sang to them,” you say, like it’s obvious.
Sejanus highly doubts that. “Do you think so?” He asks, indulging you.
“Worked for me,” you say simply, coming to a stop right in front of him. You’re rather close — you tend to do that. He knows you’d give him his space if he cared, but he doesn’t.
“That’s ‘cos you sound like an angel, sweetheart,” he tells you. He’s not sugar-coating it. You really do.
You beam. “Well thanks, handsome,” you say, swaying happily on the spot, your skirts swishing. “What’ve you got there?”
You point to his pocket, where he’s got his hand shoved, keeping your gift out of view.
“It’s a surprise,” he says, dipping his head down towards yours like you’re sharing a secret.
You hum, and lift your chin a bit, like you’re meeting him in the middle. You seem to do it without noticing.
“For me?” You ask hopefully.
Who else? Sejanus thinks. “Maybe,” he says conspiratorially. “You wanna see it?”
You nod eagerly.
“Alright,” he says. “Close your eyes, pretty.”
You do as you’re told, letting your eyes slip shut. Sejanus takes a moment to admire you, your hair tied back from your face with a cream coloured ribbon, your dewy skin, and the way the sun dips you in gold. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
“Put your hands out,” he says. You obey.
Sejanus pulls his hand out of his pocket and places a small box wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine in your cupped hands. Your shoulders go up excitedly.
“Okay, you can open ‘em,” he says.
Your eyes fly open and land on the box. “It is really for me?” You ask, practically buzzing, and lift your eyes to meet his.
There’s a look in your eyes that Sejanus doesn’t quite understand, but it makes him nervous anyway. It’s quite often that you make him nervous seemingly without even trying.
He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, yeah,” he says. “‘Course it is. Open it, yeah?”
“Okay,” you say.
Sejanus watches as you open his gift with so much care you’d think he’d spent millions on it. You untie the twine, and that goes into your pocket, along with the brown paper wrapping. Sejanus holds his breath as you lift the lid of the box to reveal a silver heart pendant, engraved with a swan. Your favourite bird.
You go dead silent for a long moment. Sejanus wonders if you hate it.
“Sejanus…” you whisper. You pull the pendant from the box and brush your thumb over the engraved swan, as gentle as if it were a real one. For once, you seem lost for words.
“They didn’t have any chain,” Sejanus explains quickly. “But I thought you could tie it with one of your ribbons. Do you … like it?”
You lift your head, blinking rather rapidly. Sejanus realises with horror that your eyes are shining with tears.
“It’s beautiful,” you say. “I love it.”
Your bottom lip wobbles. Sejanus panics and grabs you.
“Don’t cry,” he says frantically. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him. The box digs into his ribs and you’ve made a fist around the pendant, your knuckles pressing into his chest.
“Sorry,” you gasp.
Sejanus frowns. He’s happy you like the gift but hates to see you cry. After a moment you come out, pulling your face away from his chest, freeing one hand to scrub at your damp cheeks. You haven’t cried much, only a few tears. You blink up at him, a bit like a doe.
“Sorry,” you say again. “I don’t mean to, but I always cry when I see something beautiful.”
You open up your palm and gaze at the pendant again, as if checking it’s real. Sejanus waits for you to say something else but you don’t.
“So you like it?” He asks tentatively.
You laugh, and it sounds as pretty and as light as birdsong. “Yes. I love it, it’s perfect.”
You squeeze your fist back around the pendant and hold it to your heart. Then you lift your eyes to Sejanus’, giving him this look that makes his heart race.
“Thank you, Sejanus,” you say softly, reverently almost, like he’s one of your wild ducks.
Sejanus feels flowers blooming in his chest as if you’ve put them there and nurtured them. He’s about to wrap you up in his arms again when you say,
“Do you think I could give you something, too?” In this lilting, hopeful tone.
Sejanus blinks. “Yeah, sure, honey.” He can’t imagine what, but you tend to carry a lot of miscellaneous things you’ve foraged in your pockets. A pretty rock, maybe?
“Okay.” You sound almost shy, which is completely new, and trips Sejanus up a bit. He wonders what on earth it is that you’re about to give him. “Close your eyes, then.”
Sejanus does as he’s told. He hears you rustling around in your pocket for a second, before he feels you step closer, the toes of your boots touching his. He smells all your smells, that sweet flowery scent you seem to live in a cloud of, plus the warm vanilla in your hair. Then come your hands, both palms flat on his chest.
“Stay still,” you whisper, and Sejanus startles at how close you sound, your breath actually brushing his lips.
He realises what you’re about to do a second before you do it. Your hands press to his chest for stability and then your mouth lands on his, soft and gentle, but earnest all the same. You kiss him gently, shyly, but with so much warmth it tingles, and you taste like sugar. Sejanus grabs you, hands hot on your waist, and kisses you back.
He forces himself to exercise a bit of restraint so as not to scare you off after the first kiss. When you pull away, you’re flushed, and you won’t look him in the eye, though he thanks you and gives you another kiss on your warm cheek.
You press your palm to the spot he’s kissed, looking as flustered as he’s ever seen you. He’s been a fool, Sejanus realises. You weren’t as oblivious as he thought you were, after all.
Summary: After divorcing his wife, Coriolanus needed someone to look after his son. You were fit for the job. Maybe too fit, as unbeknownst to him, his son had begun to call you 'mommy'.
Warnings: Angst, fluff, propaganda, Coriolanus is a little brazen towards his son, reader is referred to as 'mommy' by Coriolanus's toddler
WC: 1.6k
Scandal was the first thing on Coriolanus Snow’s mind when he decided to divorce his wife. He had thought through every possible option, any way he could avoid the judging eyes of his peers and the public. Poison was one he kept coming back to, but the ramifications of it weren’t worth the energy. Of course, it would have been more pleasant to receive condolences for the tragic passing of his wife, than to receive unwarranted opinions on their separation. Alas, another poisoning so soon would draw too much attention…
Thus, he was forced to let her live and endure the humiliation the divorce would bring.
The second thing that crossed Coriolanus’s mind was his son. Caelius complicated the ordeal greatly, and was a main contributor to Coriolanus’s struggle in the aftermath of the divorce. He wasn’t particularly fond of children. He assumed when he had one of own his feelings would change, but it had little effect. In fact, the neediness and carelessness of the toddler infuriated him in moments. But even so, Caelius was his. His flesh and blood, his image, his.
It was natural that he didn’t settle for joint custody, any further interaction with his ex-wife would surely drive him insane. And, as the failure of their relationship was her fault, he wouldn’t let her have the chance to ruin his relationship with his son too.
He wasn’t completely cruel though, she got enough in their settlement to continue her life of luxury in the Capitol just no longer as the First Lady, nor with his son. She could have other children.
So, now that Coriolanus was the sole caretaker of Caelius he needed help. The Avoxes had been somewhat helpful since Caelius arrived at the Snow Mansion, but they weren’t well versed in childcare and neither was Coriolanus. And, he was a busy man. When he wasn’t at public events and at meetings, he was in his office. Unfortunately, Caelius loved to disturb him there and practically whenever he was home. He needed someone to take the responsibility.
That someone was you. After long and tiresome interviews, something about you impressed him. You seemed worthy of the job. And, you soon proved yourself to be. You stayed on full-time, you kept Caelius occupied and entertained, and even when Coriolanus was present you would continue to care for his son. Coriolanus found that with you around he could finally relax, and it helped that you weren’t bad company. In fact, he started to crave your presence when you weren’t around.
---
You had been working for Coriolanus Snow for almost a year. Then the problem started a few weeks ago. You weren’t sure how to address it. You thought if you ignored it, it would go away… but it didn’t.
“Mommy!” Caelius squeaked to get your attention.
It felt cruel to correct him, but what would your employer say if he found out? The poor four year old had lost his mother to a bitter divorce. He was confused, not able to understand what had caused the sudden disappearance. He looked to you as a replacement for that piece of his heart. And, a part of you wanted to fill that hole.
From what you had heard, his mother wasn’t a good role model. She left the boy to the Avoxes to be taken care of and often questioned the president on everything from his wear to his judgement. Some even said, and you hesitated to repeat it, she was a rebel sympathizer of all things! That, it seemed, was the cause of the divorce.
You didn’t blame President Snow for ending it after you had heard the full story. Of course, divorce is always hard, especially when you have children and you had questioned the choice due to Caelius. But you quickly determined it was much better for the boy to not have that influence in his life. Caelius needed to develop without the pressure of a mother who would inflict her dangerous beliefs upon him. You could admit that you had at least a touch of sympathy for the districts, but it could only go so far when you reminded yourself of the pain they had caused the people in the Capitol. And you believed President Snow ruled Panem as he should.
You told him as much too. When evening would roll around and Caelius was safely tucked in bed, you saw Coriolanus unwind. He couldn’t help but open up to you and your kind eyes. He couldn’t say everything he was thinking, but he could let go of a few thoughts that he wouldn’t otherwise let out. He felt close to you, emotionally and- when had he gotten so close to you?
Your breath seemed to mingle as he spoke and he abruptly stopped at the realization, taking a big step back.
“Goodnight.” He ended the interaction, swiftly making his way to his chambers.
You hesitated before calling, “Goodnight!” Caught off guard by the sudden dismissal of your presence.
You stood there for a moment, too, basking in the very recent closeness and attempting to get your bearings after it was taken away.
Then, you were interrupted again by a cry from Caelius’s room. A heartbreakingly familiar cry. You sighed and made your way to the child’s room, finding him sat up with puffy eyes. “Mommy!” He cried.
“I know, sweetboy.” You consoled him, promptly sitting on the bed and holding him. “It’s alright. It was just a dream.”
“Why won’t mommy marry daddy?” Caelius pouted.
“She went away, Cael. She can’t come back.” You tried to explain.
“No! You didn’t go!” The ruckus had gotten Coriolanus to reappear.
“I’m sorry, I’m trying to calm him.” You said sincerely.
Coriolanus sat on the bed too, taking Caelius from you. “Why won’t you marry mommy?” He kicked his feet and thrashed.
Coriolanus sighed deeply, you could tell this was not a conversation he wanted to be having. It felt too personal and you got up to leave but he stopped you. “Stay.” He said, catching your hand. He let go almost immediately though, unfortunately. “... He’ll be calmer with you here.” Coriolanus excused his action.
Of course, you obliged.
“We’ve talked about this, Caelius.” He attempted a measured tone. “Your mother isn’t coming back. She’s proven to be bad for you. You’re stronger without her.”
It seemed an odd approach but you didn’t dare interject.
He looked at you, trying to appoint Caelius’s attention on you too. “Look, you have a new… person in your life, hm? You like them.”
This only seemed to rile Caelius up more, causing him to whine.
“Use your words, Caelius.” Coriolanus said firmly.
“Don’t want past mommy!” He said, frustration now mixed into his lisp.
“Right.” Coriolanus nodded once. “What do you want?”
“Mommy!”
Coriolanus rolled his eyes away from Caelius, clearly not understanding him. But you had begun to. You knew something he didn’t. Something you really didn’t want Coriolanus to find out, and definitely not like this.
“Here, I’ll try telling him a story. You don’t have to worry about it.” You offer.
“No, I must see this through. He’s my son, he should know the truth.” Coriolanus insisted.
One thing you were forbidden to mention to Caelius, and why you had some sympathy for his ex-wife, even if she was foolish to side with the districts, was that Caelius’s mother had passed. She suffered an early heart attack only a few months ago and you were never one to speak ill of the dead. It was a truly terrible tragedy. And, you didn’t believe now was the right time to tell Caelius when you knew he wasn’t even talking about her. But you.
“Coriolanus-” You began.
“Your mother is dead, Caelius. The rebels snatched her into their clutches and her heart couldn’t take the stress. She’s not coming back even if I wanted her to.” He stated, bluntly.
Caelius simply blinked for a few moments, tears still rolling down his cheeks, before he began to squirm again. “Mommy!” He reached for you.
At this point Coriolanus let him go to you, still unaware about the correlation between Caelius’s words and who they were directed toward. That is, he was very briefly unaware because once Caelius was in your arms he looked right up at you and asked again, “Why won’t you marry daddy?”
You laughed nervously, harshly avoiding eye contact with Coriolanus. “You’re confused, Caelius. Let’s go to bed, yes?”
Coriolanus would not excuse this. “Would you point to your ‘mommy’, Caelius?” He asked.
Of course, Caelius pointed to you.
You looked between the boy and Coriolanus, waiting for a reaction. It was quiet for what felt like a long moment before you got one. Coriolanus smiled softly.
“You think I should marry Y/n?” He asked Caelius surprisingly softly.
“Mommy.” Caelius nodded, sniffling.
“Hm.” He hummed like he was pondering the idea. “I think so too.”
You felt your heartbeat in your entire body, eyes wide, hands clammy, and you laughed again because he had to be joking.
“What do you say, Y/n? Y/n Snow does have a nice ring to it.” He was not joking.
You struggled to answer.
“Wait, we can postpone. I’ll arrange everything first. Then you can say yes properly.” He determines before looking at Caelius. “Happy now?”
Caelius let a little smile cross his lips and then began giggling and squealing when Coriolanus tickled him. You watched the scene in shock, still trying to process everything that just happened. Then Caelius tried his best to tickle you with Coriolanus joining in, his hands feeling right at home on your sides, and you succumbed to the moment, joining in on the fight.
warnings | pure self insert, smut, size kink, short!reader, mentions of tummy bulge, creampie, i need a little wawta after this one
this is an eighteen plus fic. minors do not enter
divider by @princessbellecerise
Coryo loves how short you are
He loves the sheer power that he has over you, being able to bend you and fuck you however he wants
You have little say in what he does to you because he’s just so big that he engulfs your whole body. Not that you mind, of course
He loves how it adds to the power dynamic between the two of you. Because you’re shorter, it makes him look more powerful. More in control
His favorite thing ever is when he has you underneath him, at his mercy while he drives in and out of you
He likes to take you face down, ass up and he always likes to have a hand in your hair
It drives him crazy to hear you moan for him, drives him crazy when you tell him he’s too big
It strokes his ego in a way that he needs it, he needs to hear you say how good he fucks your little cunt
And it’s not enough to take you from behind, either
Sometimes, Coryo likes to have you facing him, on your back so you can see just how good his fucks you
So you can see the way your tummy bulges, the way your cunt strains to take him
He fucking loves it
He loves wrapping a hand around your throat and fucking you stupid, or making you suck on his fingers
Sometimes, he’ll kiss you on your forehead and whisper in your ear how you’re such a good girl for taking all of him
His favorite line is, “That’s it, pretty girl. You can take it. Fuck—your cunt takes me so well.”
And when you squeeze down on him and cum around him, he lets out the most shameless moans, filling you to the brim and then pulling out to watch the way his cum spills out of you
He’s not very romantic, but he does like to cuddle you because it feels like he’s protecting you, in a way
And if another man, god bless his soul, even tries to flirt with you, he immediately backs off once he sees Coryo’s frame towering over you and him
He loved how intimidating it makes him look, and how it makes people think twice before messing with him—and especially you
