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Cat and Mouse

Dark!Dad!Barty Crouch Jr. x Mom!Reader

Wc: ~4k

Summary: The reader can never truly get away Barty, no matter how hard she tries. He'll always find his family.

CW: Dark!Possessive!Barty, AFAB!Reader, reader has a young daughter, themes of control and manipulation, being stalked, break in, a brief moment where the reader thinks her daughter is in danger

AN: Heavily inspired by this fic, 1000% recommend

Your daughter's giggles were always your favorite sound, especially so early in the morning. You could swear by it, it was better than any alarm clock.

Today was no exception. As you crawled out of your bed and got to your feet. You couldn't help but smile, wrapping yourself up in your silk robe and slipping on your slippers, following after the lovely sound to your daughters room. You put your hand on the doorknob and leaned down to bring your ear closer, smiling brighter as you heard her giggles persist.

“Is that funny?” You heard a deep voice coo. Your heart dropped into your stomach.

Suddenly, the bright sun of the morning chasing away all the dangers of the night felt like a fool’s tale. The shining walls and work you'd done to get here meant nothing. The summer heat that chased away the night chill did nothing to warm you as the feelings of dread overtook you.

You opened the door, trying to school your expression. Your eyes locked on your daughter who turned and smiled wide at you. “Momma! Momma, Daddy's home!”

She always looked so happy. Whenever he would come back, whenever he would find you, your daughter would look at you with those big delighted eyes. The same ones she shared with the man in front of her. You couldn't help but notice a bit of a breeze crawl up your back, not from the stare of the monster before you, but as you turned to discover, your hall window was open..

You don't know what was more terrifying, the fact he was able to get past your wards or the fact he was able to do it without waking you.

“Yeah, princess. Daddy's home.” Barty gushed to his little girl, finally getting you to turn and face him. His eyes were already locked on yours. His eyes said it all, he was challenging you, to say anything, to deny him, to push him over the edge. You had grown familiar with Barty’s looks.

In Hogwarts, he would use them to keep your quiet, remind you not to let people see you get too close to him, to keep you obedient and complacent in the web he meticulously crafted just for you. The web he still had you trapped in all these years later- you struggled, that's all you could do.

Because what could a muggleborn witch like you do to protect yourself from falling in love with a Crouch? To fall victim to his endless worship of you, just to turn around and scorn your blood in front of the people he craved to impress. It was for your protection, he guaranteed, that Voldemort would make an exception of you. That he knew your soul was destined for him and he would make it clear to everyone else that it was true.

“Darling, I'm just going to speak to mommy for a moment, alright?”

Your daughter pouted, holding up her tea cup and he laughed, waving his wand to show her the same thing you assumed he must have been showing her to make her giggle. His bloody magic. The magic you begged him not to expose her to. It wasn't safe, not for you. Certainly not for your daughter, a stain on his family tree.

When he finished he gave her a kiss to her temple, and ruffled her hair. Standing up and walking across the room to you. Quickly, you turned and grabbed your wand from your pocket. Muttering a quick spell on the window as you passed, on your way to the kitchen.

It was the same routine, everytime he found you. Fix whatever damages had been caused, close the blinds, he would dismiss your daughter so you two could talk. You knew Barty could never bring himself to hurt you, in no world would he let any harm come to you or his little girl, but that didn't mean you didn't fear his anger.

You learned what testing his limits could mean. When the war began and you found out you were pregnant, Barty was ecstatic. He bought a home in the Hogwarts highlands, he used you as his get away. He would fight in a war against who you were and come home to dote on you like you were some god. It worked, at first, you were so blinded by love you didn't stop to think about what he was doing.

It was the friends you had closed out that brought you back to reality. Sirius showed up when he knew Barty would be gone, begging you to see reason. He promised you he and Remus would be there when you came to your senses. It took a few days but eventually you packed a bag. When Barty came home you begged him to leave with you, to either join your friend's side of the war or leave it completely with you.

But Barty, he had a way about him. A way that made you foggy minded and willing to forget yourself for hours. When you woke up in his bed, alone again the next morning, you knew it was time.

You'd spent months on end trying to keep away from him. But no matter where you went, he always found you.

Your daughter's giggles echoed in your mind as you moved through the motions, trying to calm down. The warmth of the morning now felt suffocating, as if the very air had turned against you. Barty’s presence had that effect- stealing the light, replacing it with a cold dread that settled deep in your bones.

In the kitchen, you set your wand down on the counter, your hand shaking slightly. You didn’t bother with tea or the pretense of normalcy. There was no use in trying to act like this was just another visit. He always saw through that.

The sound of his footsteps was deliberate, slow and measured as he entered the kitchen behind you. You didn’t need to turn to know he was watching you, that smug sense of control radiating from him like a dark cloud.

“You’re getting better at hiding,” Barty said casually, leaning against the doorframe as if he belonged there, as if he hadn’t just broken into your home and stolen another morning of peace. “I almost didn’t find you this time.”

You tightened your grip on the counter but didn’t respond. Any words you said now would only fan the flames.

“Still,” He continued, his voice calm but with an edge that made your skin crawl, “you should know better by now. There’s no point in running. Not from me.”

“What do you want, Crouch?” You snapped, your voice sharp but low, desperate to keep your daughter blissfully unaware in her room. Your jaw tightened as your heart raced, every muscle in your body screaming at you to act, to escape, but you knew better.

“Ouch,” Barty murmured, the word drawn out like a mockery of your tone. He gave a low, familiar chuckle that made your skin crawl. “No ‘hello’? No ‘it’s good to see you’? Have I fallen so far in your affections, my love?”

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you in a smooth stride. Your body stiffened as his hand slid over your arm, slow and deliberate, the other curling around your waist. Even as you resisted, he pulled you firmly back into his chest.

You felt his breath against your neck, warm and slow, the press of his nose grazing your skin as he inhaled deeply. “Still wearing that perfume I like,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, as though you were lovers reunited instead of prey cornered by a predator.

“Let go of me,” You hissed, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady.

He didn’t. Instead, he hummed softly, almost contentedly, as if he had all the time in the world. “You know,” He began, his voice silkier now, “I always miss this when you’re gone. The way you fit so perfectly here-” his hand pressed against your waist, possessive, “-like you were made for me.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch his cold, calculating eyes. “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?” You shot back, forcing as much venom into your words as you could muster. “That this is love? That what you’ve done to me- to us- is anything but a twisted game now?”

Barty’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into your waist just enough to remind you of his strength. The smile on his lips faded, replaced by something darker, something far more dangerous.

“Careful,” He warned, his voice dropping to a whisper, a quiet menace laced in his tone. “You’re upset. I’ll forgive it this time, but don’t mistake my patience for weakness. I’ve come too far, sacrificed too much, to lose you now.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to stay still. Reacting would only make things worse. He thrived on control, on watching you squirm under the weight of his presence. You couldn’t give him that satisfaction- not now.

“What do you want?” You asked again, your voice calmer this time, though the ice in your tone was unmistakable.

He tilted his head, a flash of amusement returning to his features. “You. Her. Us. Isn’t that obvious by now?”

“There is no us, Barty,” You said through clenched teeth, daring to step out of his grasp. This time, he let you, though his gaze never left you, sharp and predatory.

“You keep saying that,” He mused, leaning casually against the counter as if he belonged there. Watching as you stayed a foot or so away. As if he was unsatisfied with the distance, he reached forward and pulled you back to him.. “And yet, here we are. You, me, and our perfect little girl.” His smile returned, sinister and self-assured. “I hate fighting with you. You know what?” He mumbled, pressing lazy kisses up from your neck to your cheek. With all your fight you couldn't bring yourself to attempt to push him away again.

Because despite everything, he was still the man you loved more then life sometimes. The only person you'd ever care more for now- was the very person tying you to him.

It was the same game every time. Barty would find you, tearing through the fragile walls of peace you’d built, leaving only fragments of the life you’d tried to carve out without him. He’d remind you of who he was- not just with his suffocating eyes or possessive touches, but with the way he’d command your space, your air, your very existence. He loved you the way a bonfire devours kindling, bright and all-consuming, but he swore you were the creatures he warmed by his flames.

In truth, Barty was a forest fire. Unrelenting, destructive, impossible to escape. He touched every tree but left none standing. He created a cage of danger, an inescapable labyrinth of fear and passion that kept you tethered to him. And you- trapped between wanting to run and wanting to stay- played right into his hands every time.

The moment you found a new place to call home, he would be there, clawing his way back into your life as if he had every right to. He’d paw at you like a man starved, eyes ravenous, hands desperate to feel every inch of you again. He’d spoil your daughter rotten, making her laugh and smile in ways that made you both grateful and bitter all at once. And then, when he’d gotten what he wanted, he’d leave.

Every time. He’d leave.

To fight a war against the very thing he swore to love.

And yet, it wasn’t the war that broke you. It was the time in between- the stolen mornings, the whispered promises, the moments where you allowed yourself to believe he could change.

Because between the fights, between the harsh hands and the soft touches, you would melt. You would dissolve into the girl you once were, blinded by the love you still harbored for the boy he used to be. The boy who worshipped you with a ferocity that made you feel invincible. The boy who told you he would destroy anyone who dared to harm you, even as he slowly became the very thing you feared.

And somehow, in the fleeting moments of quiet, you still loved him.

The realization burned like a curse, hotter and sharper than any spell. Because even now, as you stood in the kitchen with his shadow still lingering in on the counter you clung to- as he continued to trial his lazy kisses across your skin, your heart betrayed you. It clung to the memory of his laugh, his touch, the way he’d hold you like you were his whole world.

Your heart ached with a contradiction you couldn’t reconcile, the tangled knot of love and fear twisting tighter with every lazy kiss Barty trailed along your neck. His lips were soft, familiar, stirring a warmth you hated yourself for feeling. Even as your mind screamed at you to pull away, to fight, to remind him that he had no place here, your body betrayed you, frozen under the weight of his presence.

He whispered something, too low for you to hear, his breath brushing against your ear. It didn’t matter what he said; the words were always the same. Sweet nothings designed to make you forget the darkness he carried, the danger he brought into your life.

Your hands gripped the counter tighter, your knuckles white as you tried to ground yourself. But his voice, his touch, the intoxicating familiarity of him- it was suffocating.

“I miss this,” Barty murmured, his tone deceptively gentle as his hand slid from your waist to rest against your hip. “I miss you.”

You closed your eyes, willing the tears threatening to spill to stay where they were. He didn’t deserve them. Not anymore.

“You don’t get to say that,” You whispered, your voice trembling despite your efforts to keep it steady. “You don’t get to miss me, Barty. Not after everything you’ve done.”

He paused for a moment, his lips hovering just above your skin. “Everything I’ve done,” he repeated slowly, as if the words themselves amused him. “Everything I’ve done has been for you. For us. For that perfect little girl you gave me- thank you.” He breathed, low and condescending, even as you felt his lips curl into that familiar sweet smile. “Thank you for her.”

“Fuck you.” You hissed, tears finally slipping past your eyes. “You don't get to thank me. How dare you-”

"Momma? Daddy?"

The small voice cut through the tension like a spell, making both of you freeze. Your daughter stood in the doorway, clutching her stuffed owl, her eyes wide with curiosity and a touch of worry.

Barty turned first, his entire demeanor softening in an instant. The dangerous glint in his eyes disappeared, replaced by warmth and affection so convincing it made your stomach churn.

"Hey, princess," he cooed, crouching to her level. "What are you doing out here? Didn't I tell you to keep practicing your tea party skills?"

Ophelia tilted her head, looking between the two of you. "You were shouting," she said simply, her tiny voice laced with innocence. "Are you and Mommy mad?"

Your throat tightened, and you struggled to find the words, but Barty was faster.

"Of course not, darling," he said, his tone dripping with sweetness as he reached out to her. She took his hand without hesitation, allowing him to pull her closer. "Mommy and I were just talking about grown-up things. Boring, silly stuff, nothing to worry about."

You wanted to scream. To contradict him.

You hated it. How well he treated her, how much of a father he could be. You knew it had to be some form of healing for him, wanting to give his daughter the father he never had. But it didn’t make it any easier for you to watch. It didn’t make it easier to stomach how easily he could shift from the storm that haunted your nights to the warm, doting father who seemed so perfect in her eyes.

"Mommy?" Ophelia’s voice pulled you back to the present, her wide, curious eyes locked on yours. She had Barty’s eyes, that same piercing gaze that could see straight through you. It was both beautiful and heart breaking, knowing what those eyes had seen before they became hers.

You forced yourself to smile, though it felt as fragile as glass- quickly brushing away your tears in hopes she didn't see them. "No, sweetheart," You cooed, your voice soft but tight. "Mommy and Daddy aren’t mad. Daddy’s just being… silly, as usual."

She giggled, the sound like bells in the tense air. Barty gave her a conspiratorial wink, as if the two of them shared some secret that didn’t include you. It made your skin crawl but your heart throb all the same. This wasn't fair.

"See, angel? Everythings alright.” Barty scooped her up effortlessly, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. His expression softened further, the love in his eyes so genuine it made your heart ache. “Mommy just worries too much sometimes,” He teased with a gentle laugh, brushing a stray curl out of Ophelia’s face. “But you don’t need to worry, do you? Daddy’s here to take care of everything.”

Ophelia rested her head against his shoulder, her small fingers clutching his collar. “Promise?” She asked softly, her innocent trust making your chest tighten.

“I promise,” He replied, his voice warm and soothing. His eyes flicked back to you, the unspoken challenge still lingering beneath his tenderness. “Daddy always keeps his promises, doesn’t he?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you swallowed the lump in your throat and turned away, busying yourself with the kettle on the counter. Anything to avoid the sight of them together, to ignore the knot of guilt and helplessness that twisted tighter in your chest with every word.

“Daddy,” Ophelia murmured, her voice muffled as she nuzzled into his neck. “Will you stay this time?”

Your breath hitched, your fingers trembling as you gripped the edge of the counter. You dared to glance over your shoulder, catching the way Barty’s expression softened further. For a fleeting moment, there was no malice in his eyes- only love, raw and unfiltered.

“For as long as I can, my little star,” He said softly, pressing a kiss to her hair.

She beamed at him, her giggles filling the room again as he twirled her around, the tension momentarily forgotten. But as you watched, the weight of reality settled heavily on your shoulders. This was the game he always played- pulling you in, wrapping you in the warmth of a family you desperately wanted to protect, only to remind you of how fragile it all was.

“Ophelia,” You called, your voice gentle and thick. “Are you hungry, baby?”

Ophelia perked up at the sound of your voice, turning her head just enough to look at you over Barty’s shoulder. “Yes, Mommy!” She chirped, her stuffed owl clutched tightly in one hand. “Can we have pancakes? The ones with the happy faces?”

You forced a smile, nodding as you stepped toward the pantry. “Of course, sweetheart. Go wash your hands first, okay? And don’t forget to set up your tea party things for later.”

She wriggled out of Barty’s arms with the unbridled energy only a child could have, her little feet padding across the floor as she darted out of the kitchen. Her laughter echoed down the hall, leaving a momentary warmth in its wake that quickly dissipated as you felt Barty’s gaze settle on you again.

You didn’t look at him. Instead, you busied yourself with gathering the ingredients for pancakes, focusing on the mundane task like it was the only thing tethering you to reality.

“She’s growing up so fast,” Barty murmured, his tone soft but pointed. “Every time I see her, she’s more like you. Stubborn, sharp, and so full of life.”

You bristled at his words but didn’t respond, your hands steady as you set a mixing bowl on the counter.

“But she has my eyes,” He continued, stepping closer, his voice lowering to that dangerous, familiar drawl. “Doesn’t she?”

You slammed the whisk down a little harder than intended, finally turning to face him. “What do you want, Barty?” you demanded a final time, your voice low and sharp. “You’ve played the loving father card. You’ve made your presence known. What’s next? What do you think this is going to accomplish?”

He tilted his head, studying you with that infuriating smirk that never quite reached his eyes. “Accomplish?” he echoed, as though the very word amused him. “Oh, love, this isn’t about accomplishing anything. This is about being where I belong. With my family.”

“This isn’t your family,” You shot back, the venom in your voice unmistakable. “You don’t get to waltz in and pretend you belong here, not after everything you’ve done.”

His expression darkened, the playful edge to his smirk hardening into something colder. Then, slowly, he smiled. That same boyish charming smile you always thought to be true. He stepped behind you, running his palms down your arms with a low sigh. “I really do hate fighting you, star.”

His hands slid down your arms, his touch deceptively gentle, but his grip firm enough to remind you of the power he held. You froze as Barty leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"I hate it," he murmured, his voice soft, yet laced with something darker. "I hate how stubborn you are, how you make me work so hard to remind you of what we have."

You gritted your teeth, refusing to look at him, to meet those piercing eyes that could always see straight through you. “What we had,” you corrected coldly, though your voice trembled.

He chuckled, a low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “You can say that as much as you want,” he said, his fingers trailing down your sides to your waist, holding you in place. “But we both know it’s not true. We still have it. You feel it every time I’m near, don’t you? Just like I do.”

“Let go of me,” you whispered, your voice breaking under the weight of his presence. You hated how weak you sounded, how easily he unraveled you.

But Barty didn’t let go. Instead, he turned you to face him, his hands settling on your hips as his stormy eyes bore into yours. "You’ve given me the best gift, love,” he said, his tone softening as his gaze flicked toward the hallway where Ophelia had disappeared. “Her. You. You’re my everything. Both of you. And you know that.”

Your throat tightened, tears threatening to spill as his words pierced through your defenses. “You don’t get to say that,” you choked out. “You don’t get to act like you’re some devoted father when you’re-” Your voice cracked, and you bit down hard on your lip, desperate to hold yourself together. “You’re the reason I had to run. The reason she’s in danger.”

“In danger?” Barty repeated, his voice sharp now, his hands tightening on your hips. “You think I’d ever let anything happen to either of you? Do you really believe I’d let anyone touch my family?”

“You’ve already put us in danger,” you shot back, your anger flaring despite the tears threatening to fall. “Your choices, your loyalty to him- you’ve made us targets, Barty. Don’t pretend you haven’t.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he leaned in closer. “Everything I’ve done has been for you,” he said, his voice low and fierce. “For us. I took that mark to protect you. I fought for a place in his world so he wouldn’t touch you or her. Do you know what I’ve sacrificed to keep you safe?”

“You don’t get to use that as an excuse,” you hissed, tears streaming freely now. “You don’t get to justify everything you’ve done by pretending it was for me. You made your choices, Barty. You chose him over me. Over us.”

His hands moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears even as his grip felt possessive, inescapable. “I chose you,” he insisted, his voice trembling with a rare vulnerability. “Every single time, I chose you. And I’d do it again, star. I’d do anything for you.”

“Then let me go,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Let me live my life. Let me protect her.”

“I can’t do that,” He said, shaking his head as his forehead pressed against yours. “You’re mine. Both of you. And I won’t let you take her- or yourself- away from me again.”

The weight of his words settled heavily in the space between you, suffocating and undeniable. You hated how your heart ached at the raw desperation in his voice, how a part of you wanted to believe him, to give in like you always did.

“You always do this,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “You make me forget how much I hate you.”

He smiled faintly, his lips brushing against your temple in a touch so tender it made your chest ache. “That’s because you don’t hate me, love. You never have. And you never will.”

You wanted to scream, to push him away, but your body betrayed you, leaning into his touch as your tears soaked into his shirt. “This isn’t fair,” you choked out, your voice muffled against him.

“No,” he agreed, his arms wrapping around you as if to shield you from the very chaos he’d brought into your life. “But I’ll make it right, star. I’ll prove to you that this is where you’re meant to be. Where we’re meant to be.”

And as much as you wanted to fight, as much as you wanted to push him away and reclaim the life you’d fought so hard to build, a part of you- the part that had always belonged to him- knew he was right.

Because no matter how far you ran, no matter how hard you fought, Barty Crouch Jr. would always find his way back to you.

And you would always let him in.

I am going to be checking this hashtag everyday until it updates!!

This series is SO GOOD!!!

Shadows of Affection

warnings: minor smut

slow burn Coriolanus Snow x reader, slight Felix Ravinstill x reader

Chapter 10: Make up your mind

You and Felix sat side by side in the Capitol's grand viewing hall, surrounded by the buzz of excited chatter. The Hunger Games preview event was in full swing, the tributes and their mentors each stepping onto the stage to perform for the Capitol’s elite, trying to make a lasting impression. The entire room was entranced, the audience eager to see who could captivate the most, who could leave them with something unforgettable.

Felix squeezed your hand lightly, the warmth between you two a welcome relief from the chaos of your respective worlds. As you watched the tributes, the tension in the air was palpable—everyone on edge, trying to get a glimpse of the next big star.

“Did you see the guy from District 2? He’s definitely overdoing it,” Felix whispered, shaking his head with a small laugh. “It’s like he’s auditioning for a role in a gladiator movie.”

You snorted quietly, leaning your shoulder against his. “Yeah, I was expecting him to pull out a sword or something. Not really my style.”

You both shared a brief, soft chuckle, and the moment between you two was comfortable—easy.

But the energy in the room shifted as Lucy Gray Baird walked onto the stage, her bright gown sparkling under the lights. Coriolanus Snow stood beside her, his cold eyes scanning the crowd, calculating. As Lucy began to sing, her voice floated through the room, delicate and haunting, drawing the crowd’s rapt attention. The Capitol’s citizens reacted immediately, their applause loud and thunderous as she finished her performance.

Your jaw tightened, a flash of irritation crossing your face. You glanced at Felix, then back at Lucy Gray, who was basking in the spotlight. You couldn’t shake the feeling of resentment building up inside you, your frustration with the entire spectacle bubbling to the surface.

“I would almost call that beautiful,” you muttered, your tone bitter. “But I’m not about to give her that kind of credit. She’s just... too much, don't you think?”

Felix, sensing the change in your mood, gave a slight, knowing smile and gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “She’s not a patch on you,” he said softly, his voice warm but serious. “You’re way better than her—way prettier, smarter...” His thumb gently brushed your jaw, and he tilted your face toward him, his gaze locking with yours. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling back slightly to look at you with a tender smile.

The touch was small, but it held more meaning than words could convey. You felt a warmth spread through you at the gesture, and for a moment, all the bitterness, all the tension, melted away.

As Lucy Gray smiled from the stage, basking in the adoration of the Capitol, Coriolanus caught sight of Felix and you in the crowd. His gaze flicked to you both, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly before a spiteful smirk curled at the corner of his lips. The look was sharp, filled with something you couldn’t quite place, but it set you on edge.

Felix, feeling the subtle shift in the atmosphere, tightened his grip around you, his expression hardening just a little as he followed Coriolanus’ gaze. But he didn’t let it linger, instead focusing entirely on you.

“Forget him,” Felix whispered, his words a soft promise. “You don’t need to let anyone steal your spotlight, especially not him.”

Your lips twitched into a faint, appreciative smile as you leaned into Felix’s embrace, your head resting against his shoulder. “I’m done worrying about him,” you murmured, your voice low. “But it’s nice to know you’ve got my back.”

Felix pressed a kiss to your temple, pulling you closer, blocking out the rest of the room

The afterparty was everything you had expected it to be—exclusive, dazzling, and filled with Capitol elites who were all too eager to congratulate themselves. The air was thick with the smell of expensive perfume and the clinking of champagne glasses, and you felt an undeniable rush of excitement as you walked into the venue with Felix. The moment you stepped in, your black lace dress caught every eye in the room. It was elegant, alluring—just enough to spark intrigue but not too much to be considered immodest. You made sure every step was purposeful, feeling the eyes of the crowd follow you, and Felix's arm was firmly planted on your lower back, a quiet declaration of ownership and confidence.

As you entered, Festus, Livia, and Agrippina were already mingling by the bar, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them. You could already feel the tension of the day slipping away, the excitement of the night taking over. Felix kept his arm around you as you approached the group, and everyone greeted you warmly.

“You two look great!” Olivia said, eyeing your dress with an appreciative look. “Damn, girl, you really know how to turn heads.”

You smirked. “I try,” you said, glancing up at Felix, who shot you a playful grin in return. “Thanks. You all look great too.”

Saja raised her glass, giving a wink. “You’re definitely making an entrance tonight.”

You leaned in to join the conversation, your mind briefly drifting away from the nagging feeling in your chest. It was a good night. You looked good, and Felix was by your side. This was the life you deserved.

But then, just as you were about to lose yourself in the moment, the doors swung open, and in walked Coriolanus Snow. His presence filled the room immediately—calm, collected, and unbothered, like he owned the place. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, though you quickly masked your irritation. You weren’t about to let him ruin your night. Not now.

“Ugh, look who it is,” Olivia whispered under her breath, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Did you hear about his performance today? He and Lucy Gray are practically unbeatable.”

“Of course they are,” you muttered under your breath, but you couldn’t help the simmering frustration bubbling inside. “He thrives on attention. It’s all he’s ever cared about.”

Agrippina nodded, looking over at the couple. “I’m kind of sick of hearing about Lucy Gray. It’s like she’s already won.”

You fought the urge to snap, forcing yourself to stay calm. “Yeah, well, if they want to crown her queen, they can. I’m not wasting my time on it.”

“Coriolanus and Lucy Gray are all anyone can talk about,” Festus chimed in. “They’re just... the perfect duo. It’s kind of sickening, actually. They’re all anyone talks about these days.”

You shot him a tight smile, but inside you were boiling. You wanted to shout, to scream that they were all just fawning over the wrong people—people who didn’t deserve the recognition. But you held yourself back. You were better than that now. Felix was beside you, and that was more than enough.

“Don’t worry about them,” Felix said softly, his voice low enough only for you to hear. “You’re way more than they’ll ever be.”

You smiled, looking up at him. “Thanks, Felix.”

You took a deep breath and excused yourself, needing to step away from the crowd for a moment. “I’m going to grab a glass of champagne. I’ll be right back.”

Felix hesitated, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Are you sure? I can go get it for you.”

“No,” you replied with a small shake of your head. “I’ve got it. I just need a moment to... breathe.”

Felix nodded, not pushing it, but you could see the concern in his eyes. He kissed your cheek softly. “Alright, I’ll be here.”

You were standing at the bar, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass, when you felt it—the familiar presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Coriolanus Snow.

"You look good tonight," he said, his voice low and smooth, like he was savoring every word.

You didn’t flinch, but you couldn’t ignore the wave of irritation washing over you. “Thanks,” you muttered, not turning to face him. “You’re looking sharp as always.”

He chuckled, that all-too-familiar smirk tugging at his lips. “You really think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?” He took a step closer, his presence almost suffocating.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond. The way he looked at you—like you were something he could control, something that belonged to him—made your blood boil.

“I see you’re still hanging on to Felix,” he said, his voice tinged with an edge of something darker. “Does he make you feel... safe?”

You felt your stomach tighten. "Felix is nothing like you, Coriolanus," you shot back, not bothering to hide the bitterness in your voice. “And you really should stop pretending to care about me.”

Coriolanus moved in even closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You know, you’ve always been so easy to read,” he whispered, his words dripping with arrogance. “You want me. You always have.”

You spun around to face him, fury flashing in your eyes. “You’re insane,” you hissed, pushing him back. “You don’t own me. I’m with Felix, and you need to get that through your head.”

Coriolanus smirked, but there was something dangerous in his eyes now. “You think he can give you what I can? Felix can’t even come close. You’re wasting your time with him.”

You gritted your teeth, fists clenching. You could feel your anger rising, but you didn’t want to show him the weakness he was trying to provoke. “You’re pathetic. You don’t even know what you want, Coriolanus.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I want.” His voice dropped to a low growl, and before you could react, he grabbed your arm, pulling you toward a quieter corner of the event hall. The music and chatter became muffled as you moved into the shadows.

“You can pretend all you want, but you belong with me,” he said, his grip tightening on your arm. “Not with him. He’s nothing.”

You jerked your arm free, your heart pounding in your chest. “No. I don’t belong to you. Don’t ever touch me like that again.”

He didn’t listen. In one swift motion, he pinned you to the wall, his body so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. His face was inches from yours, and you could see the hunger in his eyes. “You don’t get it, do you?” he said, voice low and dangerous. “You’ve always been mine.”

You could feel your pulse racing, your breath coming faster, but you fought to keep your composure. “I’m not yours, Coriolanus. I’m nobody’s.”

His lips were on yours before you could say another word. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tender. It was urgent and hungry, like he couldn’t wait another second to have you.

Your hands clenched at his jacket, but the kiss was overpowering, consuming your thoughts, your anger, everything. You wanted to pull away. You should pull away. But his hands were everywhere, his lips demanding more.

When he finally pulled back, you gasped for breath, your chest heaving. Your eyes burned with rage as you tried to push him away, but his grip on you stayed firm.

He stepped back slightly, still smirking. “You can pretend like you’re not into it, but I know you are.” He gave you one last look, something like possession flashing in his eyes. “Never tell anyone about this.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind reeling. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you spat, your voice shaking with fury. “You think you can just kiss me and walk away like nothing happened? You don’t get to do that!”

But Coriolanus didn’t answer. He simply turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there, breathless, furious, and completely and utterly confused.

You stood there for a long moment, your fingers trembling at your sides. You couldn’t believe what had just happened. How could he just kiss you like that? How could he leave you there, like it meant nothing?

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You needed to pull it together. You weren’t going to let him control you. You were done with him.

But as you made your way back to Felix, your heart was still racing. You weren’t sure what to feel. You couldn’t tell him what happened—how could you? You didn’t even know what to think about it yourself.

When Felix saw you, he immediately took note of your disheveled appearance, the way your lips were slightly swollen and the fire still burning in your eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with concern.

You quickly composed yourself, pushing the anger and confusion aside. You smiled tightly. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Felix didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t press you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close as you rejoined the others.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were caught in

The rest of the night carried on smoothly, or at least that’s how you made it seem. No one could tell anything was wrong—you’d mastered the art of pretending to be fine. You laughed, you mingled, and not once did you falter. You didn’t see Coriolanus again, but a shiver crawled down your spine every time you caught sight of someone with similar blonde hair. It was a shadow you couldn’t shake, no matter how much you smiled or how much champagne you sipped.

At the end of the evening, the goodbyes were warm and polite, filled with well-wishes for the Games in two days. You and Felix left together, sliding into the sleek black car waiting outside. The low hum of the engine filled the space as the city lights blurred past the windows.

Felix sat close to you in the backseat, his hand resting loosely on his knee, but his eyes kept darting toward you. The silence stretched just long enough to feel heavy before he broke it.

“Are you really okay?” His voice was soft, but there was an edge of concern he couldn’t quite hide. “You seemed... distracted tonight.”

You glanced at him, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine. Just tired, I guess. It’s been a long day.”

He frowned slightly, studying your face like he didn’t quite believe you. “You sure? You don’t have to pretend with me, you know. If something’s on your mind, I want to know.”

You sighed, leaning back against the seat. “I appreciate that, Felix, but there’s nothing to worry about. Really. I’m okay.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening. “You don’t have to carry everything on your own, you know. I’m here for you.”

His words made your chest tighten, but you pushed the feeling aside, flashing him a teasing smile instead. “You’re sweet, you know that? But I promise, I’m fine. Just needed a moment to breathe tonight, that’s all.”

He smiled back, though his concern lingered in the way his gaze lingered on yours. “Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But if you need me, I’m not going anywhere.”

The sincerity in his voice made your cheeks warm, and you looked away briefly, trying to focus on the passing lights outside.

“You’re too good to me, you know,” you said quietly, your voice carrying a note of something you didn’t entirely mean to let slip.

He chuckled, leaning just slightly closer. “Well, someone’s got to keep up with you. Can’t have you outshining everyone all on your own.”

You turned back to him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I see. So this is all just self-preservation? Keeping up appearances?”

“Exactly,” he said, grinning. “But you do make it easy. You’re kind of impossible not to be drawn to.”

His tone was light, but there was something else in his eyes—something deeper, more serious. The teasing smile on your lips faltered just slightly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked softly, your voice quieter now.

He hesitated for half a second before leaning in a little closer, his voice dropping just enough to send your heart racing. “It means you’re incredible. And I don’t think you even realize it half the time.”

Your breath caught, the words hanging heavy between you. The space in the car suddenly felt smaller, the air warmer.

And then he said it, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. “I love you.”

Your heart stuttered, your chest tightening as the words settled over you. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say, your mind racing. His face was so close to yours now, his eyes searching yours for any sign of how you felt.

You didn’t think—you just moved, closing the gap between you and pressing your lips softly to his.

The kiss was gentle at first, tender and cautious, but then something shifted. Coriolanus’s voice echoed in your mind, the memory of his smirk, his accusations. You wanted to prove him wrong, to prove to yourself that he didn’t matter. You kissed Felix harder, your hands moving to his shoulders as you pressed closer, needing to feel something real.

Felix responded immediately, his hands finding your waist and pulling you into his lap. The kiss deepened, your fingers tangling in his hair as the world outside the car disappeared. There was only the warmth of his hands on your back, the way he held you like you were the only thing that mattered.

The sound of the driver clearing his throat broke the moment, and you both froze, breathless and flushed. “We’ve arrived at your house, miss,” the driver said politely, his voice cutting through the haze.

You and Felix pulled apart, your foreheads resting together for a moment as you caught your breath. His hands lingered on your waist, and his eyes were dark, still searching yours.

You smiled softly, reaching up to gently cup his chin. Leaning in, you pressed a quick, sweet kiss to his lips, your thumb brushing over his jawline. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said, your voice soft but steady.

Felix nodded, still looking a little dazed. “Yeah... tomorrow.”

You slipped out of the car, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you walked up the steps to your house. Your lips still tingled, and your heart was still racing, but for the first time all night, you felt like you were in control.

🙋🏼‍♀️

hand up if you’re ready for part 10 tho

I just reread this I want more to this series so badly!! It literally sits in the back of my mind all the time💀

Shadows of Affection

warnings: none

Coriolanus Snow x reader, slight Felix Ravinstill x reader

Chapter 7: The explosion

authors note/ Hey everyone, Sorry for disappearing for a bit. I've been stuck with writer's block, but I'm getting back on track. Chapter 8 is in the works and should be out soon. Also, sorry if the last chapter was short. Sometimes, ideas come in small packages.Thanks for being patient and supportive. I'd love to hear what you think of the story so far and what you'd like to see in future chapters. Do you prefer Reader with Felix or Corio? Let me know in the comments.

The explosion ripped through the arena, hurling you off your feet and sending you crashing to the ground. The thunderous boom echoed as chaos erupted around you. You grappled to keep your balance, clinging to the trembling earth, desperately trying to push back the rising panic.

Memories of past horrors flooded your mind—the blood, the cold, the fear. You longed for home, for the reassurance of your father's presence, the soothing words that nothing could harm you. Curling into a ball, you sought solace in a moment of vulnerability, praying for the chaos to cease.

Amidst the turmoil, hands reached out, wrapping around you protectively, pulling you close. A voice whispered softly, reassuringly, promising safety in the chaos. Though the thick haze clouded your vision, you recognized the voice instantly. It was Felix.

His presence was a lifeline in the turmoil, a comfort that shone through the darkness. With his arms encircling you, he murmured words of solace, assuring you that you would weather this storm together. And in that moment, his presence felt like a refuge in the midst of chaos.

The deafening silence deceived them, luring them into a false sense of security as you cautiously began to rise. However, the illusion shattered with a final explosion that ripped through the stands above, sending debris, flames, and chaos cascading down upon you.

you stumbled, disoriented, attempting to regain your footing when a force pushed you, sending you sprawling to the ground. The impact slammed your head against the unforgiving surface, sending you spiraling into unconsciousness. In the haze between consciousness and oblivion, you caught fleeting echoes of someone calling your name.

When you emerged from the void, you found yourself in a starkly bright room, disoriented and groggy. But before you could make sense of your surroundings, darkness enveloped you once more.

As you gradually came to, the afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the room. Despite the light, your body ached, and each movement was a struggle. An uninjured  Sejanus sat nearby, concern etched across his face. When he asked how you were, you attempted to sit up, wincing at the pain.

"Where's my mother? Did she come?" you inquired, scanning the room with a glimmer of hope.

Sejanus shook his head, his expression turning solemn. "No, Y/n. I'm the only one who's been here."

your heart sank at his response, but you pressed on, asking about Coriolanus. 

"He took a hard hit, but the doctors are optimistic. He'll pull through."

When you inquired about Felix, Sejanus' demeanor turned even graver. "He's not doing well. He's in surgery right now."

you felt a pang of guilt, realizing that Felix had saved you, or at least you suspected he did. "He pushed me out of the way," you whispered, a mix of gratitude and concern coloring your words.

Sejanus explained the aftermath of the explosions, the chaos that had unfolded. "They didn’t know what triggered the bombs. The losses shook the Capitol. The casualties... they're devastating."

Your heart weighed heavily with the toll of the event. "How bad is it?" you asked, bracing yourself for Sejanus' response.

"District 6 tributes are gone. The Ring twins too," he recounted with a grimace. "Androcles Anderson and Gaius Breen are in critical condition. Gaius lost both his legs. It's a mess, Y/n.”

If Dr. Gaul wanted a makeover for the Hunger Games, she’d gotten it. You thought, Shortly after Sejanus departed, the doctor arrived with news about your injuries. According to them, the blow to your head required monitoring but wasn't too severe.You also had a bruised rib, prompting them to recommend a few days' stay for observation.

The following afternoon, a parade of well-wishers started with Festus, who bore a sling on his arm and a few stitches on his cheek from a shard of metal. He shared the news that the Academy had canceled classes, but students were expected to attend the Rings' funeral the next morning. 

After a while, Sejanus made another appearance, this time with a stack of his mother's delicious meatloaf sandwiches. He stayed for a brief visit, offering comfort in the form of familiar homemade food, before taking his leave. 

after a while of sitting in your hospital room and thinking you decide its finally time to do what you've been avoiding

As you entered Felix's hospital room, you found him lying there, seemingly in a peaceful slumber. Despite the visible cuts and bruises on his tan face, the nurse had informed you that he had already undergone surgery but had yet to wake up. A mixture of relief and uncertainty washed over you—glad that he wasn't awake to witness your vulnerable state, unsure of what to say to him even if he were.

You approached the bed and settled beside him, your hand reaching out to gently brush his dark hair away from his face. The tenderness in Felix's nature had always struck you, a stark contrast to your own soul tainted by the deeds and pain you had encountered. Though you cared for Felix, you grappled with the complexity of your feelings. Did you truly love him, or did you just love the way he made you feel.

You sat there, your lips forming a soft frown, eyes brimming with unshed tears you were determined not to let fall. "Oh, Felix," you whispered. 

As you sat in silence, the sterile hospital room offered little solace as your thoughts drifted back to a time when everything seemed simpler. You reminisced about the days when You and Felix were just children, blissfully unaware of the harsh realities that awaited them in the years to come. Felix, always the sweet boy, had been a constant presence in your childhood. You thought of the innocent days when he used to pick pretty flowers for you, a gesture that somehow always went unnoticed.

You remembered how Felix would blush, a rosy hue spreading across his cheeks whenever you talked to him or merely glanced in his direction. Back then, You hadn't paid much attention to those signs of affection. After all, your focus was firmly fixed on Coriolanus Snow, Your childhood companion.

Your families had been close, Your parents best friends, and the idea of marrying the two of you seemed almost inevitable. You once overheard conversations between your fathers discussing the possibility of a future marriage between the two of you. It now seemed like a silly notion, a relic from a time when life was uncomplicated.

As the war unfolded, your visits to the Snows' penthouse became less frequent. After Coriolanus's mother passed away, those visits ceased altogether. Your own father's death marked a turning point, a moment that shattered the illusions of a carefree childhood. The memories of those simpler times clashed with the harsh reality of the present, leaving you lost in contemplation within the sterile confines of the hospital room.

Yep..😂💀

When I realise I have read all of the Peter Ballard x reader stories

Idea

Imagine Where it’s Coriolanus snow x fem reader and they have known each other for a long time and maybe even dated (until Lucy gray) and somebody says in a speech:

“A Toast To Y/n always the second love, never the first..”

Or something like that and yes it’s inspired by the quote in corpse bride..

(Like honestly how would he react? How would the reader react? What would happen?)

Please reblog, this is so important.

Imagine you being Will’s and Jonathan’s Sister:

and Vecna/Henry/001 takes a liking towards you..:

SOMEBODY PLEASE WRITE THIS!

Also your Jonathan’s twin!

MASTERLIST

Imagine instead of Ms.Weems being murdered by Ms. Thornhill it was you instead and Tyler being there the whole time seeing his girlfriend die…

And yes you have my permission to use any of my imagines as a story or a oneshot/imagine!

This is So funny!! If you watched/liked/like Avengers..This is perfect😂

(This is not mine by the way)