Heyyyy girlyy, how have you been?
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.
