I Am Going To Be Checking This Hashtag Everyday Until It Updates!!

ABSOLUTELY PERFECTION as always!!

Me because every time theirs an update:

Shadows of Affection

warnings: despriction of death

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

Chapter 14: Slow Start

The Capitol news found short-lived relief by streaming footage of the plaza in front of the arena, where concession stands had been set up to sell drinks and sweets to citizens watching the Games on two massive screens flanking the entrance. With little happening inside the arena, most of the attention ended up on a pair of dogs whose owner had dressed them up as Lucy Gray and Jessup.

You rolled your eyes. You didn’t understand why people were so obsessed with them—especially Lucy Gray. The girl wasn’t anything special. She was a glorified carnival clown who just happened to be good at singing.

Bored and having nothing else to do but monitor the Games—which weren’t progressing at all—you barely noticed the approach of one of the Gamemakers until they cleared their throat beside you. You turned to see a frazzled-looking assistant clutching a clipboard.

“Dr. Gaul is busy,” they said hastily. “She needs you to do a quick interview with Lucky Flickerman.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why me?”

The assistant gave a helpless shrug. “Because you’re available.”

You exhaled sharply. Of course. You had nothing better to do. Might as well entertain the masses. “Fine.”

A few minutes later, you were seated across from Lucky Flickerman, who looked a little too relieved to see you. He’d become visibly frazzled under the strain of keeping the coverage going despite the stagnant Games, and you figured he was desperate for any content to fill the gaps. The countdown began—three, two, one—and the camera’s red light blinked on. Lucky threw up his hands in bewilderment.

“So, what gives?” he exclaimed, forcing a smile. “What’s up with these slow Games?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Instead, you turned directly to the camera, ignoring his performative frustration.

“Some of you may be wondering about the slow start to the Games,” you said smoothly. “But let me remind you what a wild ride it’s been just getting here. Over a third of the tributes never even made it into the arena, and those who did weren’t exactly powerhouses. In terms of fatalities, we’re running neck and neck with last year.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Lucky admitted, still smiling, “but I think I speak for a lot of people when I say—where are the tributes this year? Usually, they’re easier to spot.”

You could almost feel a vein popping in your forehead. You inhaled through your nose, schooling your expression. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten about the recent bombings,” you said icily. “In previous years, the areas open to the tributes were largely restricted to the field and the stands. But last week’s attack opened up any number of cracks and crevices, providing easy access to the labyrinth of tunnels inside the arena walls. It’s a whole new game now—first finding another tribute, then luring them out of some very dark corners.”

Lucky’s smile faltered. “Oh.” He blinked, visibly processing the explanation before quickly rebounding. “So we might have seen the last of some tributes?”

“Don’t worry.” You smirked slightly. “When they get hungry, they’ll start poking their heads out.”

Lucky didn’t seem thrilled by the answer, but he pressed on. “That’s another game changer, isn’t it? With the audience providing food, these Games could last indefinitely.”

You arched a brow. “Indefinitely?” You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Maybe you can pull another magic trick to keep people interested.”

Lucky stiffened. He clearly didn’t appreciate the jab at his little gimmicks, but instead of acknowledging it, he forced out a chuckle. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, recovering. “We all want a good show, after all!”

The interview wrapped up shortly after, and as soon as the camera light clicked off, Lucky shot you a quick, dirty look before standing up.

You merely smirked back at him, entirely unbothered.

At 5 o’clock, Dean Highbottom dismissed the student body, but the remaining 13 mentors with tributes stayed behind, largely because the Communicuffs only worked through transmitters at the Academy or the Capitol News station itself. This also meant the Gamemakers including yourself had to stay as well, much to your annoyance. By 7 o’clock, a real dinner appeared for the so-called "talent." Your excitement and hunger quickly vanished as you looked at the pork chops and potatoes. The meat looked tasty and fresh, but all you could think about was Marcus’s corpse. The image of his lifeless body, left for the maggots, flashed through your mind, and your appetite disappeared entirely. Felix, however, had no problem digging into the food.

He shot you a curious glance between bites. “You okay? You’ve barely touched your food.”

You shrugged, stirring your potatoes with your fork. “Not that hungry.”

Felix leaned back in his chair, dramatically sighing. “You know, we had dinner plans tonight. Somewhere nice, just the two of us. No blood, no bombs, no corpse-inspired loss of appetite.” He gestured around the room. “And now look at us. Stuck here.”

You gave him a small smirk. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect the games to go on this long either. But surely, they’ll only last another day.”

Felix quirked an eyebrow. “You never know. Might stretch overnight.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “Doubt it.”

“Optimistic as always.” He flashed you a teasing grin before going back to his meal.

As Felix finished up, some activity in the arena pulled the mentors back to their seats, and you decided to stay with them, trusting that the other Gamemakers could handle things for a little while. The Gamemakers’ screens showed Circ, the District 3 boy, crawling out of a barricade near the entrance. He looked around before waving someone forward—a small, scruffy girl with dark, frizzy hair scrambled after him. Above them, Lamina, still napping on the beam, cracked one eye open to assess their threat level.

“No worries, my sweet Lamina,” Pup cooed at the screen. “Those two couldn’t climb a stepladder.”

Apparently, Lamina agreed, because all she did was shift into a more comfortable position.

Lucky Flickerman appeared in the corner of the screen, dabbing a napkin at his collar where a smudge of blueberry clung to his chin. “For those just tuning in, our District 3 tributes are finally on the move! That’s Circ—the boy who claims he can ignite things with his glasses—and, uh…” Lucky glanced off-screen for a cue card. “Test… Teslee from Three?”

“She’s being mentored by our own—” Lucky looked off-screen again, searching.

“That would be our own Urban Canville,” grumbled Urban from the first row. his parents were some sort of scientists—physicists, maybe. Urban was ill-tempered and universally resented for his perfect calculus scores. You, in particular, had a small rivalry with him, since last time you checked, he was just one point behind you in class rank.

“Honestly, could they get a professional?” you muttered under your breath.

“Unfortunately, we didn’t see Turban—uh Urban and, Teslee—at the interviews,” Lucky said quickly, clearly flustered. “Because she refused to speak to me.”

“Somehow immune to his charms,” quipped Festus from the back row, earning a round of laughter. Even you let out a small snicker.

“I’m sending Circ something now—no telling when I’ll see him again,” Io announced, working her Communicuff. You noticed Urban doing the same. You shot the Gamemakers a look that silently screamed, Don’t mess up the drones this time.

Circ and Teslee skirted around Marcus’s body, crouching down to examine the wrecked drones from earlier. Their hands moved delicately over the equipment, assessing the damage, probing over compartments most people wouldn’t have noticed. Circ pulled a rectangular object—you thought it was a battery—from one of them and gave Teslee a thumbs up. She reattached some wires, and the drone’s lights blinked to life. They grinned at each other.

“Oh my!” Lucky exclaimed. “Something exciting happening here?”

“It would be more exciting if they had the controllers,” Urban muttered, though he looked a little less irritated.

The two tributes were still examining the drones when two more flew in, dropping bread and water nearby—thankfully, without crashing this time. As Circ and Teslee gathered their gifts, a figure appeared deep in the arena. They consulted briefly before each grabbing a drone and scurrying back to the barricade.

The figure turned out to be Reaper, who ducked into a tunnel and emerged carrying someone in his arms. As the cameras focused in, you recognized Dill. She looked smaller, curled into the fetal position, her sun-dappled skin drenched in sweat. A wet cough brought a strand of bloody spittle from her mouth.

Felix leaned over. “I’m surprised she lasted the day.”

You hummed in response, feeling a pang of pity. She was already dying—a slow death by disease. Putting her in the Games was just adding salt to the wound.

Reaper stepped carefully around the debris from the bombing, carrying Dill to a sunny patch of ground and laying her on a charred piece of wood. She shivered despite the heat. He pointed up at the sun and murmured something, but she didn’t react.

“Isn’t he the one who promised to kill all the others?” Pup asked.

“Doesn’t look so tough to me,” Urban scoffed.

“She’s his district partner,” Listeria reminded them.

“She’s almost dead now. Tuberculosis, probably,” Urban added.

That quieted everyone down. A bad strain of TB still cropped up in the Capitol, barely managed as a chronic condition. In the districts, it was a death sentence.

Reaper paced restlessly for a moment, either eager to get back to hunting or unable to bear watching Dill suffer. Then, he gave her one last pat and turned toward the barricade.

“Shouldn’t you send him something, dummy?” Vipina asked Clemencia.

“What for? He didn’t kill her, he just carried her. I’m not going to reward him for that,” Clemencia shot back.

You, who had been avoiding Clemencia all day, decided you’d made the right choice. Something was off with her—maybe the snake venom had altered her brain.

“Well, I might as well use what little I have left—it’s hers,” Felix said, tapping at his cuff. Two bottles of water flew in by drone. Dill didn’t even seem to notice them.

A few minutes later, the boy from District 7—the juggler, Treech—sprinted out of a tunnel, his black hair flying behind him. Without breaking stride, he grabbed the water and disappeared into a crack in the wall.

“A last drink for her,” Felix mused.

“That’s good thinking,” Vipina said approvingly. “Saves me money. I don’t have much to work with.”

The sun sank toward the horizon, casting long, crimson shadows over the arena. High above, the carrion birds wheeled in slow, lazy circles, their dark silhouettes stark against the fading light. Below them, Dill’s frail body convulsed in the throes of a final, violent coughing fit. A gush of blood soaked through the front of her dress, staining the fabric in a macabre bloom. You swallowed hard, horror and revulsion twisting in your stomach as the life drained from her small, fragile frame.

Lucky Flickerman’s voice cut through the tension, his usual airy tone laced with the false solemnity of a showman. “And with that, our dear Dill, the girl from District 11, has succumbed to natural causes. A tragedy, no doubt—but that, my dear viewers, does mean the end of Felix Ravenstill’s tenure in these Games.” He brightened, clearly pleased by the segue. “Perhaps we can hear a few final words from our departing mentor?”

Someone pulled Felix out from Heavensbee Hall, and a camera zoomed in on him. He didn’t look particularly upset. If anything, he looked resigned. “Well, it isn’t a shock, really,” he said with a careless shrug. “The girl was on her last legs when she got here.”

“I think it’s enormously to your credit that you got her through the interview,” Lucky said sympathetically. “Many mentors didn’t even manage that.”

His words made you feel sick. A girl—a child, no older than twelve or thirteen—had just died. And not from the Games, not from a weapon or a trap or another tribute’s hand. She had died from an illness, something that had been festering long before she ever set foot in the arena. And Felix—Felix didn’t seem to care.

He’s his father’s son, you thought. The man who keeps the Hunger Games going. The man Felix idolizes and wishes to become.

You wondered if Lucky’s high praise had more to do with Felix’s bloodline than his mentorship. But you shook the thought away as the cameras cut back to the arena. The sky had darkened completely now, leaving only the faint silhouette of Laminia, still perched on her beam. Dean Highbottom dismissed everyone, advising mentors to bring a toothbrush and a change of clothes for the future.

One by one, the mentors approached Felix, shaking his hand and congratulating him on a job well done. Most of them meant it—today had bonded them in a way few outsiders would ever understand. When it was your turn, you hesitated, then finally stepped forward. “Congrats,” you said, though the word felt hollow in your mouth.

Felix grinned. “For what? Getting my tribute killed by tuberculosis?”

You rolled your eyes. “For making it through the day. Though, I guess that’s a pretty low bar.”

He chuckled, but his gaze softened. “You heading home?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna walk.”

Felix’s expression turned incredulous. “What? No. It’s late—it’s damn near nine o’clock. I’m not letting you walk home by yourself.”

You sighed. “Felix, I’ll be fine.”

“Just let me call you a driver,” he insisted. “Come on.”

You gave him a flat look. “Really, Felix?”

His jaw tightened, and for once, there was no humor in his voice. “Please.”

You exhaled. “No. Seriously. I’m walking home.”

He studied you for a long moment, then nodded reluctantly. “Alright. But call me as soon as you get home.”

“Fine.”

He hesitated, then leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before pulling away. “Be safe.”

You gave him a small, almost reluctant smile before turning and heading out. He watched until you disappeared into the night, then climbed into his waiting car.

You had barely taken three steps when a voice rang out behind you. “Miss Royce! Miss Royce!”

You turned, frowning as a Gamemaker came running out of Heaven’s Hall, his face pale. “What’s going on?”

The arena was quiet. The tributes had all bedded down for the night. Nothing should be happening right now.

“It’s urgent,” the Gamemaker panted. “Dr. Gaul needs to speak with you immediately.”

Your stomach twisted, dread curling through you. “Why?”

“She didn’t say. Just that you need to come. Now.”

Something was wrong.

Without another word, you followed them to a waiting car. The drive to the lab was silent, save for the hum of the engine. No one explained anything. They didn’t seem to know, but their nervous glances and stiff postures told you everything you needed to—Dr. Gaul was angry. And that was never good.

When you arrived, you were ushered through the sterile halls, the scent of antiseptic burning your nose. The moment you stepped into the lab, you knew something was very, very wrong.

Dr. Gaul stood by a monitor, her expression thunderous. The moment her eyes landed on you, she barked, “You need to put a leash on your deluded, demented friend.”

You blinked. “What?”

Dr. Gaul’s hands slammed against the monitor, and the screen flickered. Your breath caught as the image became clear.

The arena. But—no.

A figure was inside. A figure who wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Sejanus,” you whispered. Your stomach plummeted.

“How did he even get in there?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why is he in there?”

Dr. Gaul’s face twisted in fury. “I’m working on finding the Peacekeeper he bribed to let him in. Once I do, I’ll remove their tongue myself.” Her voice dripped venom. “In the meantime, someone needs to get him out.”

You stared at her. “Send Peacekeepers. What do you expect me to do?”

Dr. Gaul leaned in, her eyes gleaming. “Oh, I expect you to go in there.”

A chill crawled up your spine. “You can’t be serious.”

“I will not have these rebels making a mockery of my Games,” she snapped. “If the districts see us lose control of the arena, it might as well be an invitation for revolution.”

You barely heard her. Your mind was racing. Sejanus—what was he thinking? And more than that… who else was in there with him?

Dr. Gaul’s voice yanked you back to the present. “I’ll freeze the feed for an hour. That’s all the time you’ll have.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The shock had rooted you to the floor.

Dr. Gaul’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t have time for this. Move.”

Your heart pounded. You couldn’t do this alone.

Your hands trembled violently as you reached for the nearest phone and dialed a number you had known all your life. You pressed it to your ear, but your grip was unsteady, slick with sweat.

“Hello?”

“Coryo,” you gasped, barely able to force the words out. “I need you. I need your help. Now.”

There was silence on the other end. Then, cautious, “What? Y/n, what’s wrong?”

“Look at your screen,” you choked out, pacing in frantic, uneven strides. Your breath came in short, panicked bursts. “Please. Just—just look.”

You heard a shuffle, a pause, then a sharp inhale. “What the hell—”

“Meet me at the arena,” you rushed out. “Right now.”

“Y/n, slow down, tell me—”

“No, Coryo, we don’t have time for this!” you snapped, your voice shrill with fear. “Just get to the arena! Please!”

“Y/n—”

You slammed the phone down before he could say another word.

Time was running out.

YESS I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS FOR AGES!!! THANK YOU FOR POSTING THIS!! @obxmxybxnk

unplanned - day out

unplanned masterlist

w/c: 1.3k

desc: you and JJ despised each other, getting into arguments whenever you bumped heads in the street. you were a kook, he was a pogue. what would happen if a baby came between you?

warnings: PART NINE, jj maybank x reader, teen pregnancy, swearing, sexual innuendos, mentions of the pogues,

a/n: i am so so sorry this has taken way over a month to write. i've had no motivation or inspiration for it AT ALL so here's this super boring chapter lmao🥺

parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8,

seven months pregnant

jj's arm wrapped around your shoulder while you sat at the chateau. the rest of the pogues were all sat around the hammocks, deep in some random conversation that you had no interest in joining at 10 in the morning.

your life was finally looking up. you had the father of your baby ready to support you and his child, you had your friends surrounding you, prepared to help tackle anything that came in the way of your little family. but you also had no parents. no boyfriend. no real family.

the fear of everyone in outerbanks finding out youre carrying a real life human being inside of you stays in the back if your mind 24/7. obviously, at this point, you look heavily pregnant to the point where you cant even hide it. so for the past month, you've either been at john b's house, or your own. you were terrified for anybody to see you out in public and spread the word of you being a whore.

honestly, you were very pleasantly surprised that rafe hadn't told everybody.

that should've been the first red flag for you.

"you okay?" jj's voice whispered in your ear. concern filling his expression. you just smiled up at him and nodded, not close enough yet to talk to him about what was worrying you.

you were so, so relieved that you and jj were becoming something, but sometimes it still felt awkward and different. it was a huge change from his mean, cruel ways to get used to.

"hey, don't you still need to buy baby clothes?" john b abruptly pulled the two of you back into their circle, and your eyes bulged open, snapping your head to jj.

"shit! i have everything except clothes, i completely forgot." you mentally face palmed yourself, how can you be a good mom if you forget the baby essentials?

"it's fine, we can go out and get some now. do you have money?" jj asked, and you nodded, although your lips turned upside down for a moment.

"i haven't checked my bank account in a while. my parents might've taken all the money out already." you told him. you'd been living off the funds you'd taken out previously, which was only about a third of what was in it before. dread filled your body at even the thought of being left broke by your cruel, putrid parents, taking all your well deserved money after endless jobs of babysitting, waitressing and dog walking even after your parents practically handed you their credit card whenever you needed even a cent.

"we better go quick then."

the two of you waved goodbye to the pogues and climbed into the van, jj in the drivers seat. there was a shift in the air as you and jj still weren't quite used to not filling silence with petty arguments or glares. it felt nice though, a good change that you were thankful for.

after a few minutes of strangely comfortable quietness, jj pulled into the street that the bank resided in, turning to you with a small smile on his face.

the building towered above you, ancient bricks seemingly going on forever. the wide, double doors pushed open and the fluorescent light of the room opened up to the two of you. jjs azure eyes scanned the room enthusiastically because, to be honest, he'd never stepped foot in a bank before. he never needed to, not with the money he owned. all the money jj had could probably, just about, fit in his jean shorts pocket.

you grinned at the lady behind the glass barrier and told her your name and details as she typed away on her (loud) keyboard. she grinned back at you as she nodded, telling you the money is in your bank and that you just need to use your credit card to access it.

after hours of sitting in the side office, across from a very professional man who spoke words niether you nor jj understood, you finally were given a new card with a new password so that your parents had no say in the money that went in and out of your bank account. you were officially, completely and utterly, your own person. no chains to your family any more.

freedom.

jj grabbed hold of your slightly sweaty hand and led you out of the building, now a huge smile on both of your faces, your expressions only showing ecstasy and exhilaration.

"hey, let's get some baby clothes now, yeah?" you nodded at the boy who's slender fingers were still entangled with yours as he pulled you through the noisy crowds of bustling tourons in the town centre, away from the beach that gave you comfort and solace. the shops that surrounded you were similar to the ones that were on the mainland, except these were more affordable and less fancy (more pogue like).

"there's a baby shop!" you exclaimed, jj nodded as he pretended to listen to you. but instead he was staring at your features. he loved the little flecks of hazel in your y/e/c eyes. he loved the quirk in your smile when you got enlivened by something. he loved the way your nose scrunched up as you accidentally brushed against somebody on the street. he loved how your skin was now decorated a pink hue as you had caught the blond, reckless troublemaker red handed.

"you coming?" you teased, trying not to show how flustered you were by his ogling (but he could already tell.)

the shelves inside the shop held teeny t-shirts with phrases like 'daddys lil' soldier' or 'i love my mom'. they were awfully cheesy and stereotyped but you could see the way jj's eyes lit up every time he read the cute words that were directed for the father. his heart swelled up at the thought of a human being that he helped make wearing a shirt saying they loved him or looked up to him.

the pogue boy reached out and gripped hold of a navy blue sweater that was decorated with cute baby pink squiggles while you grabbed some denim dungarees and grass green shoes.

"i want this." "lets get these." you both spoke at the same time causing giggles to erupt from the two of you. in the end, you threw both outfits into the basket because- why not?

the rest of the day was spent with laughs, jokes and sarcasm. you could feel yourself slowly falling for jj as the hours went by. your heart was quickly sinking because, well, this was jj maybank. a name that all the tourons learned by heart after moaning it out night after night. all the girls on the entire island had slept with him and all the boys had fought with him. he was a fuckboy and a fighter. jj would never want to be with you when he had a choice of every other girl in outerbanks.

suddenly, you felt a odd pain in your stomach. a strange sensation that felt like a pulsing beat, it took mere seconds to realise what it really was.

"jj! jj!" you called, and his head nearly snapped off by how quick he turned to you, panic struck across his face. his feet rushed towards you as he looked terrified for your wellbeing.

"what? are you okay? are you in pain? do you need a docto-" you cut the teenager off by holding his hands and moving them to your belly, letting him feel the kicking for himself. you watched as the trepidation washed from his expression and instead was replaced with euphoria and glee.

"that's my child? they're kicking?" his ears fogged up as tears collected in the bottom.

"she's kicking, jj." his circular movements stopped as his blue eyes shot up to look into yours.

"she?!"

the realisation of what you said settled in and your lips moved upwards slightly. you let the gender slip. whoops.

"she."

taglist: CLOSED

@dpaccione @talksoprettyjjx @inlovewithjjmaybankk @danicarosaline @obbx-tings @andievgs @obssesedweirdo @obx-saltlife @eppipphany @p0gue420 @k-k0129 @hopebaker @lanelessdolan @tangledinsparkles @cutiecolbsss @shreyaodedra06 @k-iraa @jellyfishbeansontoast @ahhireallydontknow @teamnick @afterglows7b-tch13 @whoseblogsthis @hello-therree @tovvaf @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @outerbongs @drewstarkeyobx @infinityspacesuniverse @perfektionsmakel @lolitstiana @deathcompass @freshprincessofwakanda @gwsparker @impossiblekidtrashwagon @sleepingalaska @1-800-holland @starkeybaby @kamcrazy123 @allie-mcginn @lonely-kermit @adorkableboys @little-blue-fishie @a-brooding-bird @butterfliesinthenightsky @coloradogirl07 @poguesnobx @princessmugglecup @yeehaw87 @teenwaywardasgardian @5am-cigarette @jjsbaebae @beth-winchester21 @microwaved-timmies @prejudic3 @jnkgloss @fanficsrmylife

I don’t know if you taking requests but I have one if you are!

Charlie Mayhew x fem reader; they are married and the reader finds out everything and on top of that he is cheating on her with Megan (aka Lois was right) and leaves him without him knowing until he gets home and finds her and all of her stuff gone. She later finds out she’s pregnant (though she was told that she couldn’t before) while she’s staying with Lois and Charlie finds out the hard way when she’s in the hospital either something happened like she gets attacked or something but she doesn’t lose the baby OR she’s in their for a check up or had said baby.

I love the way you write him and absolutely love Haunted!! Also you can change it however you like!!

BACK TO BLACK

Summary: You and Charlie have been married for a few years, but something feels off. You've been growing distant, caught in the struggle of trying to expand your family through adoption. But then, something happens—something that changes your life for the worse.

Author's Note: I’m honored by this request and hope you enjoy what I’m preparing for this fanfic. If it goes well, I can certainly guarantee more chapters. The story will include betrayal, marital issues, and pregnancy. Engage if you like it! I would like to say that other requests are welcome and that I loved writing this chapter. If you like the chapter, interact. The chapter will contain inappropriate language and explicit adult content. Minors should not interact.

AO3 LINK

ONE (+18)

At times, you have wondered how one knows when a marriage is over—if there is a sign that marks the end or if you simply wake up one day and decide to leave the man you love. For better or for worse seems far too abstract. Even now, as your husband holds you gently, pressing his body against yours. Once again, he has returned from work with a heavy expression, carrying the scent of a sweet perfume. If only he weren’t so handsome in that white coat, perhaps you would be able to think clearly enough to question him.

"My hermosa esposa, how did you spend your day?" Charlie asks, his hands settling on your waist as he embraces you from behind, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"Aunt Lois took me shopping. She advised me to start buying furniture for our child’s room," you say, turning to look at your husband, who does not seem pleased.

"I don’t like you getting ahead of yourself about having a child. Buying furniture and clothes is premature. That imaginary child does not exist yet," Charlie replies, his tone edged with bitterness, as if the idea of preparing a nursery had been weighing on him for some time.

"I should have known you would react this way," you say, pulling your husband's arms away from you. It is almost as if, little by little, he is becoming a stranger—a complete stranger.

"If this continues, it would be best if we abandoned this altogether," you say, your gaze serious as you look at him.

"You want to give up on the idea of adoption?" Charlie asks, and you watch him closely, trying to decipher his thoughts. Deep down, you are almost certain he is relieved at the mention of giving up.

"Perhaps I want to give up on my husband," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. Charlie’s expression remains unreadable for a moment, his sharp eyes studying you in silence. Then, ever so subtly, the corners of his lips twitch—not quite a smirk, not quite a frown.

"Don't speak like that, mi vida," he says, holding your face and pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. "You are the reason I live." Charlie’s voice is low as he leans in, his fingers tracing gentle patterns against your skin.

"I love you, Charlie, but if you don’t want to build a future with me, then it’s best that I move on with my imaginary child, and you with your own life," you murmur. It hurts to say it. You don’t want to give up on your marriage—but with each passing day, it feels as though the man before you is slipping further away.

"Forgive me if I gave the impression that I don’t want a future for us. I just think what we have now is already good," he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your forehead, and finally your lips. Your eyes close, surrendering to his touch. It’s always like this.

"What we have now is you being a successful doctor and me being a journalist who gave up the column I was responsible for because it required too much time away from home. I thought at least one of us should be present to care for our child—but we don’t have a child yet. And I remain here, waiting for some form of company," you confront him.

Some time ago, you tried to conceive, but due to a medical condition, none of your pregnancies survived. Eventually, the weight of it began carving an emotional void within you, a void that only seemed to push Charlie further away. He never put words to what he was feeling, and perhaps that was what hurt the most.

"I can keep you company now," Charlie says as he puts his hands on the strap of the dress you're wearing. He slowly pulls your dress down as you believe you should be discussing your relationship, but feeling his gentle touch on you, you feel like you can connect with him once more. "Eres deliciosa, I hope I'm being clear about this," Charlie says as he finally gets rid of your dress.

"As much as you're praising me, I don't know if fucking now will help us, mi esposo ," you speak with a shaky voice as you feel the touch of Charlie's hands on your exposed breasts. His cold fingers touched your nipples, causing you a pleasant sensation as he went from caressing your nipples to lightly squeezing them. You bite your lip holding back a moan that is almost escaping your mouth.

"Mi vida, being between your legs, feeling your juicy pussy around my cock, will always be the best option to help," he says as he pulls your neck. Immediately his lips capture yours, before you can even say anything. And quickly you feel something soften inside you, not just your legs but your heart. Charlie's arms hold your body, naked. By chance, you were without panties and bra, because the dress you were wearing was tight. He lifts you off the ground, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. His fingers pressing into your ass with a force that makes you gasp, while you cling to his neck, kissing every detail. You can't remember the last time he held you in his arms, that he wanted to be so close to you. "Doctor Charlie Mayhew, you are overdressed," you murmur in his ear as you nibble on his earlobe.

"Why don't you help me with this, Mrs. Mayhew?" he says as he places you on the edge of the bed. His body raised in front of you, his cock visibly erect covered by his pants so close to your face. He then takes your hand, putting two of your fingers in his mouth and sucking. The erotic look he gives you is enough to make you hot inside, you remove your fingers from his mouth and hurry to help him take off his clothes. You remove his lab coat, then unbuttoning his shirt and taking off his tie.

"Tell me how much you want to have me inside you, mi vida," he says as he gently pushes you down onto the bed. Then he gets on top of you, licking your lips and then kissing you deeply. His tongue entering your mouth and sucking yours as you lost yourselves in each other in the middle of the kiss. He uses his hands to separate your legs, running his fingers over your pussy, making you shiver slightly. Your pussy is wet, you can feel how easy it is for Charlie to run his fingers under it, as if he's just teasing you.

"Stop teasing me and fuck me," you mutter. He chuckles as he gently presses two fingers onto your clit, while kissing your neck. He sucks the skin on your neck as he enters your pussy with both fingers, inserting them into you slowly.You arch your body slowly, feeling pleasure build inside you as his fingers they come in and out of you faster and faster. You moan slowly as you watch him give a naughty smile watching you squirm. You feel your orgasm approaching, as you make increasingly loud noises at the stimulation Charlie is giving your pussy. You dig your nails into Charlie's back as you scratch him, feeling him inside you with so much passion. He then takes his fingers out of you, licking them and slapping your pussy, making you grunt.

"I'll give you what you wanted so much, hermosa," Charlie speaks as He removes his belt from his pants and lowers his pants and underwear with admirable speed. You place your hand under his cock, stroking his cock with your hands and gently squeezing the tip of it. He mutters "mierda" while feeling your hand stimulate his cock, feeling his pre-cum lubricate your hand making the movements more slippery. He squeezes your breasts as he massages them, causing you to let out a soft moan. Quickly, he holds your hand, kissing the hand that was previously on his dick and without delay, puts his cock in your pussy. His first movement is slow, as you get used to his cock inside you, but quickly amidst your attempts to assist with his movements, he begins to thrust his cock in you more quickly. You can't contain your moans as you feel him nibble on your neck and hold your legs upwards, to bring your body even closer to his. You drag your fingers down his back as you force him deeper into you, grinding slightly. You pull on Charlie's hair as you feel your orgasm coming, feeling the sweat from your bodies mix as your husband continues to explore your body with his hands. You let out a loud grunt as your husband thrusts deeper into you, as your cum melts his cock.

As you cum, he squeezes your ass tightly, making you even more horny for him. His balls slapping against your pussy as he still thrusts his cock into you, while your pussy is sensitive from cumming. You hold on tight against him as you try to keep your legs steady on his waist even though you feel a slight weakness in your body as you recover from the orgasm. Charlie says your name as he cums inside you, and you feel his cum spurt inside you hard, making you let out a loud involuntary moan. Charlie licks your neck moving up to your face and kissing your lips.

"I hope you're ready for round two, mi vida," he says as he runs his fingers down to your pussy, feeling his cum dripping down your pussy and pressing his hand against your sensitive pussy, giving it a light slap under it. You sigh as you prepare for another round of sex with your hot husband.

"I'm always ready for more of you," you whisper against your husband's lips as you feel him take control of your body. He has always had this power over you—the power to ignite you, to give you exactly what you need to feel whole. Sexually, the two of you share an otherworldly connection.

But then the night fades into dawn, and once again, your husband slips out of bed. It isn’t a medical emergency—his pager never went off—but you definitely heard him receive a message.

After several long minutes of pretending to sleep, you wait for him to leave before following him. You are certain now—he is hiding something. It has been weeks since Aunt Lois first warned you that something about Charlie felt off, and now you need to know what is so important that he had to leave your bed in such a hurry.

You remember all the advice Aunt Lois gave you for moments like this. You’re using your own car, keeping a safe distance, wearing a disguise. And yet, Charlie doesn’t seem the least bit suspicious.

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you see where he finally parks. Megan Duval’s house. More specifically, Detective Megan Duval. She and Aunt Lois are partners, though their relationship has been strained ever since Lois suspected Megan was angling for a promotion. Thinking back, Megan used to visit Aunt Lois’s house often. And Charlie never minded going there either. Coincidence or not, Charlie suddenly became too busy to attend Aunt Lois’s dinners—just as Megan stopped going as well.

Then you see him. Charlie steps out of his car, smoothing his tousled hair—hair you ran your fingers through just hours ago. He straightens his shirt, a fleeting effort to compose himself before heading toward her door.

Your body tenses as you watch him smile, a smile you once thought was meant only for you. He nearly rushes to her, and she opens the door as if she had been waiting, as if this were routine. Without hesitation, she throws herself into his arms, and he kisses her. Passionately. His hands find her waist, pulling her close with a familiarity that makes your stomach turn. Then, slowly, one of them slides down to caress her backside.

Your heart shatters. Your blood boils. Tears blur your vision as you watch them disappear inside, and the weight of reality crashes down on you. The man you built your life around, the man you sacrificed for, the man you loved—he is gone. Or maybe he was never truly yours.

Every instinct screams at you to get out of the car, to tear her house apart, to make him regret this betrayal. Years of devotion, of trying to give him a child, of bending yourself to fit the shape of his life—wasted. You want to scream. You want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But more than anything, you want to be free. And that will only be possible if he never sees it coming.

Your hands grip the wheel tighter as you drive home, heart pounding in your chest. The moment you step inside, you move with purpose. A suitcase—essentials only. Clothes, documents, enough to disappear for a while. But as you pack, rage takes over.

You shatter every framed photo of the two of you, as if breaking the glass could erase the years you wasted on him. You tear apart his favorite clothes, rip them to shreds. His expensive colognes? Smashed, their luxurious scent mixing with the bitter stench of betrayal. Then, an idea forms. If Charlie takes his time realizing you’re gone, it will be even easier to slip away. With renewed determination, you grab every bottle of alcohol he cherishes and pour them over the furniture, the floors, every surface in sight. By the time your bag is packed into the car, the house is drenched in liquor.

Standing at the door, you flick open a lighter—one you haven’t used in years. You quit smoking when you started trying for a child, when you still believed in the future you were building together. That future is gone now. So you let the past burn. The flames catch instantly, licking hungrily at the alcohol-soaked wood. You took the batteries out of the smoke detectors. There are no neighbors nearby. By the time Charlie realizes what’s happened, he’ll have nothing left. You slide into the driver’s seat, heart racing, and dial Aunt Lois.It’s time to tell her everything. As you drive away, the fire glows in your rearview mirror. But you don’t look back.

Months later, you struggle to carry a package into your new home. Aunt Lois made your escape possible, securing a false identity and forged documents so you could start over. You relocated to the family's countryside house in another state, renting it under your new name for a modest sum—just enough to avoid suspicion.

They never found your body in the fire, so you were declared missing. You abandoned your car in a river before boarding a train that took you close to your new home. Now, you drive a rented car, living in this secluded house, far enough from prying eyes. The people in town seem to like you—you’re not sure if it’s because of your demeanor or because you're a pregnant woman living alone.

Yes, Charlie managed to get you pregnant—perhaps in one of the few times he hadn’t even tried. Now, you spend your days working as a waitress in a local restaurant and ghostwriting for a newspaper. You need every bit of income to prepare for the arrival of your child.

But something is wrong. There’s someone inside your house. You spot the intruder from a distance, rummaging through your belongings. Your pulse quickens as you slip back to your car, your fingers closing around the gun in the glove compartment. You don’t give him a chance—once you have a clear shot, you fire.

He collapses, blood pooling beneath him. You approach, cautious but steady. He’s still breathing, but barely. Then, as you turn his body over, your world tilts. "Y/N... is it really you?" Charlie rasps, his voice weak, his hand grasping at your leg as if trying to convince himself you’re real.

You stare down at him, heart pounding. "Charlie," you whisper. Your hand instinctively moves to your belly, feeling your baby stir inside you. What a cruel twist of fate.

Imagine how distraught snow would be if his wife had a really rough time giving birth to their child where she’s coming in and out of conscience and there’s blood and he’s terrified she won’t make it like his mother leading to him hating the baby for a little bc of how badly his wife was recovering sorry for the angst! Ignore this if uncomfortable <3

forever winter |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested, troubles with child birth leaves coriolanus very cold towards your son.

contains: angst. mentions of parental death, blood, complications during birth. darkish coriolanus. kinda fluffy-ish end?

Coriolanus knew the horrors of childbirth. He knew the dangers, the risks. He’d seen the blank stares of a new mother rocking her baby, eyes blank and distant like she’d been through war. He’d heard the solemn whispers in a dim room, quiet and hushed, darting eyes that looked everywhere but the casket- sometimes two. His own mother had been torn from his grasp at a young age because of it, and for a while, he was sure he’d never let his own wife experience it. 

Then he met you. 

You who lit his world up from the inside out, who he rose only each day to see- to love. You who cradled a baby at your engagement announcement, a friend’s newborn, held him so naturally and delicately that it ignited something inside Coriolanus. He wanted a dozen babies with you, he decided at that moment that he’d do anything to make it happen. 

You’d blossomed so naturally, swelled up overnight. Round belly and a glowing demeanor- it was addictive to Coriolanus. How he’d brag, boast proudly to anyone who’d hear it- his wife pregnant, he couldn’t be happier. 

All those fears, worries, were replaced with new ones. Horror stories about infants, toddlers. His own consuming thoughts about being a father. The idea of childbirth was nothing but a fading thought to him. That had been in the war, technology was better, he was in a better place. Your father had ensured his darling daughter would have the best of the best- you always did. The best doctors, the best birthing suite, the best nursery- the best. 

But money couldn’t buy your own body betraying itself at birth. It didn’t stop the bleeding, the paling of your skin as you fluttered in and out of consciousness. 

You’d grunted like an animal, tearing yourself into two for hours, cursing Coriolanus’ name, begging him to make it stop, crushing his hands with your legs up in the stirrups, pushing your baby out. 

Coriolanus was in awe of you, though he’d never get the chance to tell you. How you’d willed yourself to hurt yourself, inflict that selfless pain to bring life into the world. It was positively poetic. 

He’d been so overjoyed hearing your babies gargled cry, the nurses announcing its gender- his gender. His son. A boy. A beautiful boy, wailing and delicate and covered in matter that Coriolanus didn’t even care about when he held him close to his own chest. 

“What is it, Coryo?” You muttered, eyes drooping, chest heaving with aftershocks of pain from the birth. 

“A boy, my love.” Coryo’s eyes shone with tears, lips pressing together to conceal it. “It’s a boy. Our boy, my darling.” 

“A boy…” Your speech was slurred, head lolling back onto the pillow. 

Coriolanus noticed for the first time how still the room had become, his son’s wailing the only sound. The nurses and doctors, once chipper and gleeful, now bearing a sickly paleness to their face, eerily quiet. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Coriolanus snapped, eyes wide, frantic, bouncing around the room. “What’s happening?” 

“We-We can’t find-” The doctor’s voice shook, ducked between your legs in a pile of crimson. Coriolanus’ stomach turned violently. 

“She’s bleeding. We-We can’t find where the bleeding is.” The nurse whispered. 

“What?” Coriolanus snapped. “Bleeding? H-How can she- Find it!” The baby wailed over the sound of Coriolanus’ demanding barks. 

“President Snow, we-we’re trying our best-” 

“-Try harder.” Coriolanus sneered, clutching the baby closer to his chest. “If anything happens to my wife, I will single handedly ensure your bloodline ends with you. Each of you will know what it feels like to lose your family too if you lose her.” He spat, sending the nurses and doctors into a fearful frenzy. 

The newborn wailed, doctors shouted, and Coriolanus’ ears rang, his chest too tight, painfully tight. He couldn’t lose you, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t survive that loss. His eyes fell to the screeching baby beneath him, scrunched face and wailing gums. How was he to raise this baby without you? 

Anger boiled through his chest at the sight of his son- his fault. A cowering nurse, frozen in shaking fear in the corner, watched him carefully as he stormed towards her. “Take this.” Coriolanus sneered, shoving the baby in her arms. 

He hated the feeling, the helplessness that consumed him as he stood, wide eyed and shaking hands he clenched into fists. 

Somewhere, somehow, the doctor found the bleeding, stopping it with a triumphant cry. “Get the blood, get the blood!” He shouted, head hooked over his shoulder. “Infuse it now!” 

Coriolanus wasn’t sure he could remember how to breathe. Memories of the two of your: the moment you met, the first date, his shaking hands asking for yours in marriage, the way you beamed under your veil at the altar, the same glow that you had when you told him you were pregnant. It could all be gone so easily. Had his father felt this way? So helpless? 

Maybe that’s why he’d been so hardened and resentful, so he’d never feel attached- never allow himself to feel so helpless. 

Coriolanus decided he couldn’t blame him, sitting in this chair, watching as you rested. The doctor said there’d be a lot of that in the coming hours. That you’d gone through trauma and you needed time. He wanted to rip you from the bed, shake you until you awoke and told him you were ok. He needed to hear it, maddenned himself with the need for it. 

Instead, he sat. 

Coryo sent the baby out to the nursery. He knew your parents, Tigris, everyone waiting would be thrilled to see the baby boy. Coryo just couldn’t muster the feigned excitement now. The site of his own son made his stomach turn, fear soaked repulsion settled deep in the pitt of his own core. 

Somewhere in the night, you awoke. A rustling and a groan that had Coriolanus snapping out of his dazed sleep, head tucked to his shoulder, slumped in the chair beside your bed. 

“Don’t move.” Coryo commanded, eyes a kind of bright, frantic wide that had you stilling. 

Your throat burned, head dizzy with the medicine they’d pumped into your system. Coriolanus’ hands shook as he brought you the water, hand cupping your jaw gently to feed it to you. You blinked, bleary with confusion. “You’re alright, my love.” Coriolanus' heart swelled, suffocatingly in his own chest. You were alright. 

“Coryo,” You croaked, throat tight, rasping from before, you were sure. You remembered the birth, most of it anyways, the blurry memory of your baby in Coryo’s arms before your memory failed. “The-The baby… Is he alright? W-Where’s my baby?” 

“He’s with your parents, my love.” Coriolanus’ hand smoothes down your matted hair, sticky with dried sweat. “Nevermind him. How are you? Is anything wrong? Do you need anything? I-I’ll call for the nurse.” 

You shook your head, looking around the room. The sheets were clean, your gown clean, but you felt an achy soreness splitting you in half. “What happened?” 

Coriolanus felt the lump in his throat grow, strangling his words in his throat. “Y-You had some complications, darling.” He swallowed the burn of his own tears down in his throat. “You were bleeding but they stopped it.” 

You blinked, unmoving, soaking in the details of your injury. Coriolanus watched you with a studying glare, eyes scanning for any tiny, minor infliction that something was wrong. “Is-Is the baby ok?” You whispered, eyes shining with fear when you met his gaze. 

“The baby’s fine.” Coryo snapped, harsher than he meant to. It alarmed you, your eyes snapping to his carefully. He took a deep breath, holding your hand carefully into his own, thumb running over your knuckles. 

“He’s fine.” Coryo said, softer this time. “I need to know how you are. What do you need from me, my love? What can I do to make it better?” 

You squeezed his hand lightly, your strength weaker than normal. It made Coriolanus’ spine tingle with shooting chills of concern. “I want to see my baby.” You whispered, head leaning against Coryo’s shoulder. 

“No,” Coriolanus shook his head furiously. “No, you-you need to rest, and-and not be bothered by the baby-” 

“-Coryo,” Your eyes rounded, so pitifully pleading Coriolanus would have walked through fire for you if you asked him to. “Please? I just want to see our baby.” 

And how could he say no? He couldn’t, so instead, Coriolanus called the nurse in. Your parents, proud grandparents, holding the baby, tutting over you. Everyone flitting about the birthing room, Tigris even gleaming with joy at the birth of her nephew. All except Coriolanus, who watched in the corner of the room, a stoic look on his face. 

You looked positively radiant, glowing with joy as you held your son. As if that baby hadn’t nearly killed you, Coriolanus wanted to scream the reminder to you, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t dare upset you, risk upsetting you in front of your family. 

“Coriolanus,” Tigris’ soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts, brought him away from his own sinking, heavy feelings of disappointment. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, Tigris.” Coryo’s voice was tight, firm and forced, like the look of awkward contentment he tried to paint across his features. 

“You… You haven’t held your son.” Tigris hesitated, voice dropping softly so the others wouldn’t overhear. 

“I don’t wish to hold him right now.” Coriolanus sneered. 

“He is your son, Coriolanus.” Tigris hissed, her voice dropping to a low hush in the room, terrified you or the others might hear. 

“And he almost killed her.” Coryo’s eyes flashed to Tigris’ in horrified rage. “Nearly fated her as my sister did my mother, and if you think for one second I am to be happy at that, then you are-” 

“-Coryo,” Your voice croaked, still weak and tired. It made his heart lurch, attention on you in a second, already walking towards your bedside. 

“Yes, my love? What do you need?” Coriolanus muttered. Normally, he’d be embarrassed, showing such affection especially in front of your parents, but he hoped they’d pardon his vulnerability in the moment, given the circumstances. 

“Look at him,” Your eyes shone with love, pure adoration, as if you weren’t cradling the very thing that almost killed you. It made Coryo sick. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” 

Coriolanus looked down at the small newborn, wrapped in swaddles, eyes closed and lips twitching with the faintest whimper of a cry. He looked so much like you, so much like himself- the perfect blend of the two of you taking your lips but Coriolanus’ nose. 

His heart swelled with pride before he could help it, lips curling in a half smile. He’d grown weak, Coriolanus decided, softened by you and your love. He should be disgusted by the baby, despise him and reject him like an animal in the wild would. But he couldn’t bring himself to it. 

“A fine young boy.” Your father boasted, nodding proudly. “The two of you should be very proud.” 

“Yes,” Coryo swallowed around the lump in his throat. You leaned into his touch, shifting the baby so he could better see him. 

“Any idea on the name?” Your mother hummed, moving beside you. 

“I still think Cyrene would be fitting.” You’re beaming, beautiful and proud when you meet Coriolanus’ gaze. “What do you think, Coryo?” 

“Yes,” Coryo nodded. “I think that would be a fine name.” 

“Cyrene Snow,” You cooed, pressing your nose to the baby’s, pressing a gentle kiss there. Your eyes brimmed with tears when you met Coriolanus’ gaze. “Do you want to hold him, darling?” 

“Are you getting tired?” Coryo watched you carefully. “Do you feel alright?” 

“Yes,” You nodded. “I don’t want to hog the baby. Want you to have a chance too, darling.” 

“That’s alright.” Coryo shook his head politely, suddenly very aware of your parents and Tigris’ gaze on him. “You hold him, my love.” 

You frowned lightly. You knew something was off with Coryo, the tightness in his tone, lips falling in a flat line. You waited until later, when Cyrene lay in his bassinet, your family all gone for the night, just you and Coryo in the birthing suite. 

“Why will you not hold him?” You asked through the still darkness. Coriolanus' eyes snapped to yours fiercely, startled by your tone. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Our baby.” You groaned when you sat up, Coryo rushing to your side. 

“You need to be careful-” 

“-You won’t hold him, Coriolanus.” You gripped his arm, eyes shining in something new- something Coryo wasn’t certain of, but it made his stomach twist. “Why?” 

Coriolanus swallowed, the lump in his throat suffocating him. “The last time I held him,” Coryo’s voice was soft, rasping in the quiet room, barely above a whisper. “You nearly died.” 

The room was still, far too still for either of you to find comfort. A harsh, shocking truth for the both of you, sickening and cruel. Your near damned fated reality, Coriolanus’ worst fears, the peaceful baby resting in the bassinet besides the two of you. 

Pressed into the side of your hospital bed, Coriolanus held you carefully, a stilled reminder that you were still there, that you hadn’t left him. The icy wall he’d built high for his son melted with every soft coo and whisper you gave him, a reminder that you were still with him and would be. 

When Coryo finally held Cyrene again, when he’d stirred awake and you were asleep, he turned to the window overlooking Panem’s Capitol, eyes shining with tears- of regret, joy, pain? Even Coryo wasn’t sure, but he rocked his son to sleep carefully, promising him that one day, he’d have what Coryo had. That he wouldn’t leave him the way his father had, that he’d keep him safe, teach him how to keep you safe.

Absolutely love this!

Three’s A Crowd

Request: Hello! I have request for a Coriolanus Snow x Fem! Reader. Where the reader is pregnant and has to give a speech maybe during him becoming president but in the middle of it she goes into labour.

Pairing: Coriolanus snow x Fem!reader

Word count: 1.5k

warnings: pregnancy, light mentions of labor, classism, district versus capital opinions, the reader is from the capital

~~~~~~

You weren’t the first choice. You knew that. But did it stop you from turning him away his advances?

Absolutely not.

You were kind, sweet, and everyone around you knew who you were. Growing up with the Snows and your close friends, you weren’t the standout. It wasn’t a bad thing—it just was.

You came from a wealthy family. Generational wealth that had taken a hit during the War, but quickly bounced back when your family invested in clothing manufacturing. Your family helped sponsor the reconstruction of factories destroyed in Eight, and soon, the business boomed. Your wealth grew, surpassing anything you’d ever imagined.

But despite having access to the finest fashion first, you remained the same sweet girl. Always willing to give a skirt, blouse, or dress with a flaw to Tigress, saying, “It would be a shame to waste it. I just don’t have the talents to fix it.” Tigress always smiled in return.

Watching you during the Hunger Games years ago had been painful. When the games changed, and Academy students had to mentor District tributes, you were assigned Wovey, a poor thirteen-year-old from District Eight. You did everything in your power to keep your promise to get her home. But near the end, after Wovey drank some water and died within minutes, your frustration boiled over. You demanded answers, questioned the contents of the water, and felt humiliated. You had failed, and it ate at you, gnawing at your pride.

After the Games, life seemed to return to normal—for you, at least. News broke about Coriolanus Snow’s involvement in cheating and his banishment to District 12 as a peacekeeper, and the gossip spread like wildfire.

You’d liked him—been acquaintances. You exchanged basic pleasantries, nothing more. He was smart. Incredibly so. Even in silence, his eyes were constantly assessing, watching everything.

You felt sorry for him. Sorry that he was stuck in an awful district with awful people. Sorry that he’d been manipulated by Lucy Gray, that District girl who you believed was only using him. How awful those District people were.

Then, near the end of summer, after Sejanus Plinth’s death, Coryo returned to the Capital. And he was different—hardened, colder, more toned. But the way he looked at you was also different.

It began with simple compliments during classes at University. Compliments that made you blush. Then came walks to class, studying together, dinners. And before you knew it, you were standing beside him as the First Lady of Panem, ever so cold, calculating, and calculating. You saw the side of him he only allowed you to see—the soft, loving Coryo you had come to know and love.

And now here you were. Just two years into his presidency. The grand hall of your home was packed, its glittering elite seated in perfect rows as cameras broadcasted the event to the districts. Tonight, the event was designed to be a spectacle—a night of carefully crafted rhetoric.

You stood at the podium, poised, regal, your silk gown flowing over the unmistakable curve of your belly. Coriolanus had urged you to rest, to stay seated during the event, but you insisted. This speech was important.

The initiative you were launching, The Future of Panem Fund, symbolized progress—a new focus on education and healthcare for the next generation. It reinforced Coriolanus’ image as a leader who not only brought order but invested in the future. As his wife, you played a key role in solidifying that vision.

Standing before the audience, you smiled, your voice unwavering. “Good evening. I would like to thank you all for taking the time to come tonight. I assure you, it will be worth it,” you began, the polished ease of a practiced speaker settling over you. A sweet smile, a perfect face, the ideal First Lady for their perfect President.

“For too long, we have focused on the present—on survival, rebuilding, improving. But tonight, we look beyond the now. We look to what comes next. What comes tomorrow.”

A wave of nods rippled through the audience, all of them hanging on your words. You had crafted this speech carefully, balancing inspiration and strength.”

“The Future of Panem Fund is not just an initiative; it is a promise.” Your hand rested lightly on your belly. “A promise that every child in the Capital will have access to education, healthcare, and the resources to grow strong and capable.”

Applause rippled through the hall, and beside you, Coriolanus stood composed, his sharp gaze never leaving you.

You took a steadying breath before continuing. “Because the future of Panem is not written by chance. It is shaped by those with the will to guide it. Together, we will build a nation that does not just survive—but thrives.”

The applause swelled, echoing through the hall. You allowed a brief smile, savoring the moment—

And then, the contraction hit.

Your breath hitched, pain radiating through your abdomen. You gripped the podium, forcing yourself to maintain a serene expression. You weren’t going to falter.

Coriolanus noticed instantly.

Though he didn’t move, you could feel his attention shift, his calculating mind assessing every detail.

Still, you pressed on. “This fund will ensure that every—” Another contraction. This time, your breath left you in a slow, controlled exhale. You gave a short laugh, shaking your head.

Oh.

Oh, this was happening.

You turned to Coriolanus and, in a voice that carried through the microphone, murmured with quiet amusement, “I do believe I’m in labor, my dearest.”

Silence.

Then the hall erupted.

Laughter, cheers, applause—thousands of people on their feet, reveling in the spectacle. This was their perfect moment—their President, his wife, and the arrival of their child, the future of Panem.

But Coriolanus didn’t see it that way.

For the first time, his mask cracked. His usually unreadable expression betrayed sheer disbelief.

You, however, were laughing softly, gripping the podium as another contraction struck. “Well,” you exhaled, glancing back at the crowd, “it seems the future of Panem is arriving a little earlier than expected.”

More laughter, more cheers, more applause. Half the room was celebrating, while reporters scrambled to capture every moment as though it was a privilege to witness.

Coriolanus finally snapped into action.

“Go,” he barked sharply to the peacekeepers, “Bring the doctor. Now.”

The peacekeepers moved immediately, but Coriolanus was already at your side, one hand pressed to your back, the other reaching to steady you. His grip was firm, unwavering, but you felt the tension radiating off him. More peacekeepers formed around you, escorting you out of the hall and to the private part of your home.

“You should have been resting,” he muttered lowly, his voice tight as he guided you away from the podium.

You smirked despite the pain. “And miss my big speech? Not a chance.”

His jaw clenched, but a faint twitch of his lips betrayed something softer. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” you teased breathlessly, leaning into his support as another contraction hit, a small groan escaping, “you married me.”

Cameras flashed as Coriolanus led you toward the exit, his grip protective, unyielding. The crowd cheered, watching their leader—newly cemented in power—prepare to welcome his heir, the new generation to rule Panem.

SAME

Look I know okay but listen

This is me waiting for young Coriolanus Snow x reader stories:

I don’t know about anyone else but I would like it to be JJ but that’s up to you :)

if i did an imagine based off the song 'somebody else' by the 1975, who would you want it to be about? rafe or jj 🥺

The Secret (Henry/Peter/001 x reader)

(Au: You and Peter had a secret relationship in the lab and after a night of roughness. You soon find out your pregnant and with a help one of the other nurses you get free from the lab. Only for a few months later for Peter to find you...)

Masterlist

Peter Ballard/Henry Creel/001 x Reader

(Warning: Pregnancy, getting sick, a lil spicy and a lil dark, Fluff, angst)

"Y/n? Are you feeling alright?" Katherine one of the nurses and a good friend you worked along with asked.

"I-I'm not sure.." you replied

"Why don't you come out, when your done and I will take you home." She said.

  Once, it was time to leave you were in the car with Katherine sting to your house.

"How long as this been going on." Katherine asked.

"A few weeks, I originally thought it was a stomach bug or something b-but now I don't know what it is."

"How about I do a pregnancy test because, y/n getting sick could be 'morning' sickness for the reason that it can hit you at any moment of the day and I say this with all do respect it is just from what I know about pregnancy your stomach being a little more bloated than before." She explained.

"I was afraid of that.. if I am actually pregnant what am I going to do? Brenn-"

"I will deal with Brenner, we will figure it out after I run the test tomorrow. Then we will figure it out okay?" I sighed and nodded. Turning to look out the window.

  Well, tomorrow came sooner then expected. You had just taken the sample for Katherine to test it as of now you were waiting for the results. About an hour later Katherine came in.

"Well.. congratulations Y/n you are pregnant." She said, as you started to tear up.

"What am i going to do?" You broke down sobbing "I can't go back Br-brenner will kill me, he will kill Henry as well omg what how am I going to do th-" "y/n look I will deal with Brenner. You won't be going back to the lab and my mother works in a secrade hospital not far from Hawkins. I will take you there for your appointments and when you give birth. And wait did you say it was Henry's child?" She said/asked. You nodded sobbing even more as she hugged you comforting you.

"It will be okay, I promise.. I just didn't know you two were that close. I mean I knew something was going on but-" "it started not long after I started working at the lab, from what went from little chats, to secret kisses, led to more so much more.. I fell for him.." I said answering all her questions. She nodded and made me look at her.

"We are going to do this. I promise everything will be alright. You just have to trust me. And not get so worried and stress and I know it's hard do to the circumstances but it's not good for you or the baby." You nodded as she pulled you into a hug.

  That's when you knew you felt protected and finally had a true best friend for life.

(And she was your best friend for life as well as the godmother/aunt of your child!)

(1 year later)

   Katherine was right everything was alright. You as well as Katherine ended up quitting the lab it turned out Brenner was going to fire you anyways and Katherine used a 'excuse' saying she had family emergency that she had to leave. Over the course of your pregnancy, Katherine took you to your appointments as promised. She even did a little baby shower for you revealing you were having a girl! You also made her cry surprising her with being the godmother. And October. 25, 1978 Hayley Grace L/n was born and you couldn’t be more happier. Though you did wish Henry was there with you through the whole pregnancy..

  Now, Y/n was currently in the living room resting while, she was reading a new book

While, her 3 month old daughter Hayley was sound a sleep in crib. It was hard and it did make fear a very common feeling knowing Dr. Brenner was still out their. Though Katherine has confirmed multiple times that he has forgotten about you. You still had fear, fear that he would find out about yours and Henry's child, and take her away while harming or worse killing you along the side. Fear that Henry is going to come.

  You did fall for Henry and loved him but, he was very possessive, harsh at times... back in the lab, you couldn't have a conversation with any of the other staff more so the male staff or there would be consequences, jealousy, possessiveness, lying, manipulation, controlling, Brenner always having an eye on him... there was always something about him you always were wary about but, you still fell for him.. hard.. no matter all of the clear warning signs..

  Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard crying from Hayley's room. You quickly got up and went to check on her. Turning the knob going over to her crib, only for a hand to grab your wrists and the other over your mouth. The persons lips kissed from your shoulder blade, to your neck, up to your ear.

"I promised, I would always find you..." you gasped hearing the voice of the man you thought and slightly hoped to never hear again.

  You slowly turned around with your hands still gripped to the crib. Meeting his perfect blue eyes in the pitch black room.

"Have to admit you have quite the life.. but I never expected you to break my rules... darling.." Henry said looking at the crib. Your eyes widened at that action as well as shocked that he did not know she was his daughter.

"H-Henry please can we talk outside.. p-please.." You asked in a shaky voice. He looked at you for a moment before leaning in to your ear.

"God, I missed hearing you beg.." he whispered  seductively making you shudder. "But lead the way darling."

  You both walked out of the room and into your room only for him to slam you into the wall with his hand around your neck.

"So who's is it? You know what I can do darling.. your mine! No gets to have you except me."

"So does that mean you would kill your self?" You asked, looked at you confused before slow loosening his grip so you could continue.

"Do you remember before, I left how I wasn't feeling well?" He nodded. "Well, it wasn't a stomach bug like we had thought. The one afternoon not long before we got off, Katherine who I worked with in the infirmary room has found me in the ladies room. That night when we got off, she drove me home. The following day she ran a pregnancy test on me.. it came back positive." He looked at you in disbelief.

"The child is mine?" He asked.

"Who else's would it be?" I asked.

"And I left because I was afraid. Afraid how you would take it.. but more importantly I was afra-terrified of what Brenner would do to us and our baby, I didn't want to stay there and have our child be taken away, tested on, both Of us murdered."

Before you could continue his lips smashed onto yours harshly and passionately. You pushed him away, only to bring him back into the kiss. He picked you up as you wrapped your legs around him as he walk you both over to your now soon to be shared bed as he laid you down climbing on top of you.

  That night you both reconnected in a way that no words could bring into perspective. Close to each other once more.

  The next morning, you woke up in strong arms wrapped around you as well as some one kissing your shoulder. You turned over to see him. Though the moment did not last long when you heard crying. You got up and put on your under garments as well as your robe.

"Why don't he get dressed and meet your daughter." You said looking back at Henry with a smile before leaving.

  You heard the door creak open more and turned around while holding Hayley to see Henry. He slowly walked up to you looking at you then to the little girl in your arms.

"Hold out your arms." You said seeing him hesitate for a moment before doing so.

  You placed Hayley in his arms seeing as he tensed as you did. Only to see him relax and you knew that it was official he knew she was his. Knowing of his powers once he's close to them.

"Her name is Hayley Grace L/n.. I didn't really know what to put for her last name so I took the safer route or the safest one and put mine." You spoke while admiring there interaction.

  You saw Hayley's little arm stretch outward grabbing onto his finger with her blue eyes looking up at him while he did the same.

  You see her yawn he gave you Hayley back as you started to rock her to sleep. As he came up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist watching the two of you as your daughter fell back to sleep.

  And, for once, Henry Creel felt like he had everything he wanted.. forgetting about his original plans.. he finally had a family who wanted him for him. Not caring about his powers, no judgment.. just love. He finally saw the good in the cruel world for once and nothing will come in between that or his family..

Word count: 1636

(A/n : I FRICKKEN LOVE HOW THIS TURNED OUT! IT US SO CUTE I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT!!)

A Toast (Slightly Dark Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

(Summary: Y/n & Coriolanus have always loved each other but someone has always gotten in the way of you too.)

Masterlist : Request Info

Word Count: 1.4k

(A/n: I’ve been having this in my drafts for to long as well as many others.. but I’ve had this idea for way too long! Sorry if it’s a mess but let me know if y’all want a part 2!!)

(Warnings!: ANGST ANGST ANGST! Heartbreak, Livia being a b¡tch, Lucy Gray mentioned, Slightly Dark Coriolanus Snow!)

"A toast to Emily.. Always the bridesmaid, Never The Bride..."

~~~~

You didn't know why you were here at Coriolanus wedding.. a wedding to Livia Cardew of all people. You couldn't believe what he said to you that night you had found out about the engagement.

~~~~

"Y-your what..." Y/n said, looking at Coriolanus. Hurt and confusion filled your eyes.

"Look I know it's out of the blue." He said, reaching out to her. She moved away feeling her heart start to break. "But I'm doing this for a reason.. n/n-"

"Don't.. just don't.." Y/n said putting her hand up to stop him.

"I-I have to go.." She said getting up and grabbing her coat and purse. Coriolanus looked at her confused.

"What?" Coriolanus asked before grabbing her arm.

"Let go Corio..." "Why are leaving like this?"

Y/n wanted to slap him so hard. Before turning to look at him tears filling her eyes.

"You're getting married Coriolanus." He winced a bit at her using his full name. "And I'm not going to be your mistress or the other woman or whatever this between us has been about!"

"N/n you know Livia means nothing to me.." Coriolanus said. She gave a look.

"Then why marry her? Because of her money?" Y/n asked, Coriolanus looked away. "Oh my god. That's it isn't it? It's just another way for you to get more ... power.."

"T-that's why it'll never be me.." Y/n whispered as the realisation she'd been avoiding for so long hit her full on. Coriolanus looked at her, hearing her words.

"Y-" "No! g-get off me.." She spat pushing him off her and he tried to grab her again but wasn't fast enough as she made a dash to the door and left leaving him alone.

~~~

The realisation she had finally faced that night shook her to the core. She'd known. Of course she'd known. How could she not? He would never go for her he'd pick someone higher more powerful with money or someone lower... but beautiful and talented something she wasn't.. something she never will be.. like Lucy Gray Baird.

The girl he had mentored and helped during the 10th anual Hunger Games and followed her to District 12 after getting caught cheating in the games as a peacekeeper.

~~~

"W-what?" Y/n whispered in disbelief. Sitting up in her bed as Coriolanus had just climbed up to your bedroom from the fire escape.

"I cheated in the games their sending me to 12 as a Peacekeeper.." He spoke. She knew he was lying.

"You're following her aren't you." She whispered. He looked at you confused and a mixture of shock and guilt. "I.. Dean Highbottom told me that you were getting sent to 8.. he didn't tell me why.."

His jaw clenched as he tried to reach out to her but she pulled away and looking away as tears formed.

"H-how long?" She asked.. he looked at her with an unreadable expression."20 years.."

She nodded wiping away her tears and sniffing. "Maybe.. it's for the best.."

Coriolanus froze at her words. Wondering what the hell she meant by that. It made him feel angry hurt confused.. numb.. he could tell she was crying.

"I-I think you should go.. Coriolanus.."

He winced at her using his full name the girl that he'd known for years always by his side. Now feeling impossibly far away even when she's right here next to him.

Y/n swallowed thickly before speaking.

"Tell Lucy Gray I'm happy she's alright.."

With that he gave her one last look before leaving back out her window as she finally let out a choked sob as her heart broke.

~~~~~

When she saw him at her front door only months later she didn't know what to do or say but he pulled her into a kiss telling her he was stupid for picking a low life District girl over you.

You met up with him or well he'd turn up at your apartment to talk or in the simplest terms to fuck. He was your first love, first kiss, first time. Of course a greed selfish man like him would take all of your most important firsts. At this point you were jealous of Lucy Gray for getting away from him. Whether she ran up north like Coriolanus told her or if she was dead.

Now here you were standing alongside of guests in an offset purple dress at his wedding to Livia Cardew. Feeling his gaze almost all night with Tigris next to you giving you a sad almost pitiful look.

"I was really hoping that it would be you.." Tigris whispered to you in hushed voice. You gave her a small sad smile back. Before looking to the direction where a glass was being clinked as everyone turned the way to see the devil herself Livia Cardew clinking her glass with a spoon. Raising her glass with a sly smile.

"Hello I'm Livia Cardew- well now Snow." Livia started a speech earning a few laughs from the crowd and a slight scoff from Coriolanus.

"I'd like to make this toast in thanking you all for coming to my-our big day! It's means so much to Coriolanus and I that you are all here!" She earned a few appreciation points from the crowd.

"Oh, I almost forgot! A Toast to Y/n Always the second choice. Never the first!" Livia Cardew Toasted, her speech made some gasp and others laugh.

  Y/n froze in her spot as the reality of the unknown truth in Livia's speech. And before she knew it tears start to perk up into her eyes.

Coriolanus looked at Livia in shock and anger. His eyes drifted to yours. You stood their hurt, shocked once reality set in you saw almost if not everyones eyes on you and the last thing you saw was Livia Cardew smirking at you. After, that you moved your way through the crowd tears slowly falling from your eyes as people laughed and made comments.  After snapping at Livia and having her bridesmaids go after her Coriolanus got up to go after you and Tigris grabbed his arm.

"I think you've done enough Coriolanus.." Tigris said but Coriolanus didn't listen as he tried to get through the crowd.

  The last thing you heard before you exited was the sound of a bright flash. Sure enough everything will be on the front page of the prophet and you were right.

~~~

  The next morning, your face was on the front page of the prophet. Headline saying ‘Chaos at Future Presidents Snows wedding. Y/n Reinswood at the center of it? (Read page 294 for more details!)

Y/n rolled her eyes as she threw it in the her trash can before going back to lay down in her bed curled up into a ball. Thinking about last night.

She knew Livia wasn’t wrong. She was in fact right. Y/n Lyn Reinswood was and will forever be the second choice, Especially when it came to Coriolanus Snow. Remembering last night made it hurt more.

~~~

Y/n rushed to her apartment closing the door with a slight bang. Where she finally let all the tears and sobs escape her lips. Her heart shattered in a million pieces. Feelings of heart ache and embarrassment. She had decided then to move somewhere he wouldn’t find her or care to look.

After what felt like hours, her tears had dried and breathing had calmed she heard a frantic knock on her door. Y/n sighed getting up figuring and hoping it was just Tigris coming to check on her.

“N/n. Please.” She froze in her spot hearing Coriolanus voice on the other side of the door. “Please.. open the door..”

Y/n put a hand on her mouth going to the floor as she let out muffled sobs he kept almost but practically begging for her to open the door. Coriolanus was many things but he was never a begger.

He didn’t know how long he stayed out there for pleading for her to let him in. Y/n was the only thing he had left and because of power once again he had lost you. His own foolish antics. And Livia Cardew how could he be so dimwitted in that decision.. he wasn’t going to let her go not like the songbird from 12. No… not her..

Was it love? Or obsession? Or fear of losing her that made him feel this way. That he kept crawling back to her. He wasn’t sure but he wasn’t ready to let her go all he needed now was to get rid of Livia..

Send Requests!

Masterlist

Who I Write For:

(For Now)

Henry Creel (Stranger Things)

Steve Harrington (Stranger Things)

Coriolanus Snow (Tbosas)

Finnick Odair (THG)

JJ Maybank (Outerbanks/Obx)

Barty Crouch Jr (Harry Potter)

Theodore Nott (Harry Potter)

Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf)

Wally Clark (School Spirits)

What I WILL write:

(Scenarios, One shot, Preferences, ect)

Fluff

Angst

Smut

Fem reader

Gen Reader

Angst w/ Happy ending

Sad endings

Yandere

Dark themes : Gore, Possiveness, If I can’t have you no one can. Stalking

What I WON’T write:

Male Reader

Ships

Threesomes +

Rape scene/ SA scenes (will mention it but will NOT write it!!)