Strawberry Milkshake

Strawberry Milkshake

Spiderman x fem!reader pt.2

part 1

Summary: In a world where nobody remembers who Peter Parker is, the poor boy is slowly building his life again, especially when it comes to MJ. He hopes to gradually restore their lost relationship when he meets another girl, a new contact he didn't know he needed.

Warning: This is part 2 of the story New Contacts

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Two weeks flew by quicker than you thought and what was originally supposed to be one-time tutoring for Peter Parker turned out to be a whole set of study sessions for your exams and projects, flavoured by the constant help from Peter. You found yourself wandering how did this guy not attend MIT with you, or maybe even Harvard, when he was so effortlessly grasping topics that took you weeks to figure out.

"I hate this professor," you mumbled once, sitting on his couch as he sat on a pillow on the other side of the table, tugging on your physics book. "Why?" he chuckled, pulling it out completely and opening it on a random page, breezing through the tiny printed words. "He made me do this absolutely impossible project because I was ten minutes late. Ten minutes! And he knows how much I suck at physics, so he's basically giving me hell like every lesson!" you threw your arms into the air in frustration, letting them fall down with a loud thud against the couch.

"Why do you take his subject then, if you don't like it that much?" you met Peter's dark chocolate eyes staring at you from behind the book. "My parents want me to be an engineer," you sighed. "Said I needed a proper job instead of-"

"A waitress," he cut you off, earning a pillow flying above the table, aimed for his head. 

"No," you chuckled, looking away from his sweet smile that always managed to capture you too much. "No, I was thinking of making it to Brodway one day. I used to write small plays for my elementary school and highschool, thinking that maybe one day they could be plastered on the bilboards of New York City,"

Peter watched your eyes get lost in the view of his window, the roofs of millions of buildings in Queens visible from where you were sitting. "Who says they couldn't be? One day?" your were brought back by his soft voice, making you smile sadly. "My parents," you commented, leaving him with nothing to say as he knew that fear of disappointing his loved ones. Yet, he still knew he had to choose his heart. And he thought that you should know it too.

"You should follow your heart," he broke the silence between the two of you, his words creating another smile on your lips, this time a rather sarcastic one. "Okay, Disney princess," you joked, getting the lost pillow thrown back at you. "I might, once you tell me why didn't you follow your heart to MIT. You're obviouly a nerd and you know your way around this... stuff," you gestured at the opened books in front of you, mere look on them making you shiver in disgust. "I'm not a nerd," Peter immediately shook his head. 

"Really? Tell me the name of a certain math term defined as 'a rectangular array or table of numbers, symbols, or expressions, arranged in rows and columns'," you lifted your eyebrow. "Matrix," Peter said without missing a beat. "And what planet is Chewbacca from?"

"Kashyyyk," you nodded, Peter's immediate responses only proving your point as a victorious grin spread across your face. "Bingo," Peter scrunched his nose as you moved your body in a small victory dance, taking a sip from one of the two glasses full of strawberry milkshake on the table. 

"So now, spill the beans, why aren't you studying at MIT?" you watched as Peter's posture slumped just like the first time you met him in the cafeteria, his eyes suddenly thousand miles away, lost in his complicated mind. "I almost was," he spoke up after a while, his voice quiet. "I applied and I got in... They just lost me," he breathed out a heavy breath that seemed to be stuck in him this whole time. He technically didn't lie, they did lose him, as in any information about him, just like everyone on this world. And despite the weight it has put on his shoulders, he seemed to breathe a bit lighter once it was out. 

"I'm so sorry," you muttered, feeling bad for pushing a topic that was clearly sensitive for him. "Are you thinking of applying again?"

"Only if you submit one of your plays to Broadway," he grinned. "Maybe a smaller theater for the starter?" you smiled back helplessly, sighing in relief as he nodded, and stuck out your pinky. "Promise," he tied your pinky with his, sending warmth from his skin to your whole body. "Deal,"

"How was the vacation?" you asked, turning your head a bit to see MJ on the other side of the cafeteria. "It was good, had a lot of fun with everyone, until our car broke down," she shrugged, unphased by your shocked expression. "And I suppose everything ended well, since you're here safe and healthy, or am I talking to a ghost?" you joked, earning a small chuckle from your colleague. "Ned's grandma alarmed their neighbour to come and pick us up," MJ shrugged, joining you at the mixer. 

"Why two glasses? Thought you were doing a milkshake for yourself?" she shouted through the mixer you manged to turn on with a pink mess turning inside. "For Peter," you yelled back, the bell at the door jingling as soon as you turned the gadget off, the mentioned brown haired boy skipping inside.

"Guess who applied!" he put his phone in front of you, barely registering MJ standing next to you, watching him in surprise. You gasped as you read that his application was sent successfully, pushing yourself over the counter with one hand to hug him with the other, Peter reciprocating the hug tightly. "Now, where's the play?" he smirked, making you shake your head. "That will come after the physics project. Can you imagine what he told me? That apparently my, well, your idea wasn't enough and I should use real physics as a base for this project," you groaned, remembering the talk from your physics teacher that kept bothering you the whole day. "He's such a jerk, but we'll figure something out! If he wants real physics we better give him one," he winked, making a small giggle escape your lips.

"I didn't know you two are friends," MJ's voice made both of you turn to her, meeting her confused eyes jumping from him to you. "MJ," Peter breathed out a bit of air, the rest getting stuck in his throat as he didn't know what to say. You looked at him, a bit confused what to do before MJ opened her mouth again. 

"Chocolate moccha for you as usual, Peter?" she watched as Peter's eyes fell on the two glasses of strawberry milkshake you were holding, the drink now becoming a tradition after two weeks of drinking it with you. "I'll have it later, thank you," he nodded back at MJ politely, taking a glass from you. 

You watched in shock as MJ turned away immediately, Peter's lips parting to release the rest of the breath he was holding. "Peter," you spoke up, feeling there was something between them you might have interrupted when an interruption of your worried thoughts came in a form Peter's gentle smile. "I will talk to her later, for now I have you and your strawberry milkshake,"

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Thank you for reading :D

Let me know how you like this story!

⤞ My masterlist ⤝

Please don't leave

D'Artagnan x fem!reader

⤞ My masterlist ⤝

A/N: Hiii, so yeah, this is basically my first post of a one-shot I wrote like a year ago but I am still proud of it to this day. At first it was written based on D'Artagnan from the movie The Three Musketeers but later on I realised that it works perfectly with the one from the series as well so you got both of them here haha. I also decided to leave this in a 3rd pov despite reader's involvement in this story. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know how you like it ;D

Warning: none it's just fluff

Summary: D'Artagnan and his wife wake up to another morning in their bed until they realise the daunting truth of what is to come.

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Another cold morning had hit the residents of Paris. The early busy streets were haunted by a mysterious fog and the warm breaths of people talking with each other in hopes of buying something for what little they had. Amongst the civilians, a bunch of feathered hats moved around. The musketeers, the pride and joy of the King's army, were up early and ready to protect their country and their King. All of them but one.

She pulled her bedsheets up, trying to hide from the merciless cold that had crept into her usually warm bedroom. She could use the feeling of his body to fight the cold but found no strength to search for his touch as her place in the bed was partially warmed up by her. As if her thoughts called him, his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to his chest. It felt just like the usual morning they were to spend together. Except it wasn't. 

The reality hit her like a wild horse and broke all of her dreams of a lovely morning into pieces. "Charles," she croaked. There was no response but she knew he was up, he was a light sleeper, his profession made him to be one. "Charles," she tried again. A sound returned to her voice and finally hit his ears as he snuggled closer to the crook of her neck. 

"Oui, mon ange?" he mumbled against her skin, placing a small kiss. It was prickling like a needle as she slowly realized it might have been one of the last kisses she was to receive from him. 

"You have to go," her voice shook and she gulped, to swallow the lump in her throat caused by the urge to cry. 

He groaned, realizing the truth as well, but choosing to ignore it in favor of more cuddles. "No, we still have time."

She sighed as she glanced at the clock, "No, we don't, the musketeers will be here any minute." She started wiggling, trying to break free from his grip that only tightened, making her break a smile whilst she kept on trying. "I have to prepare you a bath. And get your clothes," 

"No, you don't, I can do it later," he muttered sleepily, pulling her as close as physically possible. 

"I do, or you'll have to go through the embarrassment of being dragged out of the bed naked by one of your brothers in arms," she giggled, hitting his hand which had proven to be the right method to make him let go. 

"Please don't leave," he begged, setting off a tear down her cheek. However, it quickly dried as she gasped when the freezing air hit her skin, biting into every inch of her naked body. 

She quickly dressed herself, and he, unbeknownst to her, was watching her with adoration. All of her motions, the way she tied her hair into a ponytail with a black tie, creating a small bowtie at the top. How she quickly put on her underwear to fight of the spreading goosebumps on her skin, small almost inaudible gasps escaping her lips with each movement. The way she perfectly slipped into the black dress he gave her last winter, the one she wore every time he had to leave her. And after all those times, he learned to despise the dress, wishing he never had given it to her. Wishing she never had to put it on, on another of those mornings.

As she left the room, it was as if a symphony he didn't even realise was enveloping his entire world came to a halt. But then her voice rang across the house and he found himself fighting the cold outside their bed just to get to her. As he washed, she made sure everything was ready for him. She always did. She didn't even forget the small package of food for the way, no matter how many times he had told her that Porthos would bring something. And every time, he made sure to eat everything she packed for him instead of what Porthos had brought. 

He was drying himself up when he noticed the unusual silence coming from his significant other. "Why so silent, amour?"  

"Just a lot of thoughts," she shrugged, forcing a smile onto her lips, even though her eyes glistened with tears. 

His posture softened under her teary gaze, but it didn't stop him from his usual habits. "You don't have to mourn, you know I will be back," he grinned arrogantly, letting out his boyish attitude to reduce her worries. But it was very like him to laugh in the face of Death and then escape, no matter how carelessly he threads the line between life and death. She smiled honestly this time, a small giggle escaping her lips and he wished he could trap it in a jar and take it with him. She opened her mouth to retort back but was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. 

"D'Artagnan, you better not be sleeping or I will break this door down and drag your ass out whether it's naked or not! Athos is already waiting for us on the academy grounds." Aramis' voice roared from the outside. Her eyebrow lifted, glancing at D'Artagnan who was half naked with a towel in his hands. "I suppose you are at the risk of a major embarrassment." 

"I'm not if my love makes sure to hold them up for me," he smirked devilishly as she rolled her eyes, already heading for the door.  "Sometimes I wish to not do as you say and witness the actual threat getting fulfilled, I think I'd find it more than hilarious," she yelled at him in the middle of her tracks, a mischievous smile, he could see in his mind, painting her lips. "You wouldn't do me that dirty, you love me too much for something like that," he managed to answer while frantically trying to put on his pants.

"Do I really?" she teased, grabbing the door knob and twisting it.

"Hello, gentlemen," she smiled brightly at the two musketeers in front of her. They bowed their heads while holding their hats in an elegant matter, both smiling at her, Aramis appearing to be more joyful than any other time. "My lady." 

"Definitely not yours!" D'Artagnan's voice thundered from the other room. 

"She will be if you don't come out ready this instant!" Aramis snapped back, throwing a bold wink at the lady of the house. She could only roll her eyes at the cheesy gesture as she leaned on the door frame, preventing the two men from entering any further. She smiled politely. "You will have to forgive me, but I oppose to that idea, unfortunately," 

Aramis grabbed her hand and placed his lips on top of it. "Oh, what a shame, my gorgeous lady,"  he sighed after holding it for longer than appropriate, only making her chuckle. 

"Fortunately!" Charles yelled out again. 

"Mon amour, I cannot hold them much longer. Aramis is gonna be all over me if you don't get here soon," a smirk on her face met Aramis' similair one in front of her as Charles D'Artagnan appeared from behind her, accompanied by a loud crash. 

He puffed out his chest after his 'graceful' entrance. "Weren't you the one who taught me not to profane the lady?" he send daggers Aramis' way, towering over the two of his friends, "And here you are, dragging my wife into whatever is going on in that head of yours. I think this matter cannot be resolved any other way than a proper fight upon our return," her eyes widened upon the words of her husband as she noticed the challenging sparks in the musketeers' eyes.

"In no way are you fighting after your return. I will be more than thankful to have you come in one piece after those few weeks so don't you even think about getting yourself killed the very next day," she turned around to fix his shirt and coat that was visibly put on in a hurry. However, she did not fail to handle his clothes with rough tugs, a heat rising in his chest from the warning fire in her eyes. "And you better not let him do anything stupid, I know he will try anyways," she turned around again, eyeing the other musketeers who bowed again under the urging flames.

"At your service, my lady," they smirked in Charles' face and set off running  when he gave chase and chased them all the way to the front yard and to where the horses were already prepared to set off. She followed them, walking to the front yard slowly with a soft laugh but quieted the second she saw them by the horses. D'Artagnan was still with his feet on the ground and waiting for her with a glint in his eyes. Oh, how she was going to miss his dark loving eyes only ever laid on her and the warmth of his body on all of those winter mornings. Oh, how he was going to miss the sweet, sweet smile of hers and the way her voice sounded between the walls of their house. How he was never looking forward to the deafening silence around him without her presence, despite Porthos' mouth never shutting up during the missions. It was a list of unspoken vows they never told to each other out loud but they could always feel it, the way the world stopped at that very moment. 

And without any wait, when she was within his reach, he pulled her into a bittersweet kiss, sending thousands of painful but sweet needles down their lips as both of them knew this may be their last. It was long, full of longing and pain, but mesmerising enough to deafen Aramis' scoff in the back. "Please don't leave," she begged after their lips finally parted, her forehead resting on his. She begged again after he hopped on his horse and again right before they departed. "You know I will come back," he reassured her. And yet, she kept on begging in silence, hoping that he would keep true to his word again just as he did up until now.

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MASTERLIST

Basically taking in ANY requests!!!

Marvel

Captain America

↪ taking requests/coming soon...

Iron man

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Spiderman

↪ New Contact ↪ pt. 2

↪ taking requests/coming soon...

and more...

The Hunger Games

Peeta Mellark

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Finnick Odair

Just One Date >part 2

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Coriolanus Snow

Jabberjays and Mockingjays

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Haymitch Abernathy

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Formula 1

LH

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LN

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CL

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CS

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and more...

The three musketeers

Charles D'Artagnan

↪ Please don't leave

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and more...

Harry Potter + Fantastic Beasts

Harry Potter

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Draco Malfoy

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Tom Riddle

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Newt Scamander

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New Contact

Spiderman x fem!reader

pt. 2

⤞ My masterlist ⤝

Summary: In a world where nobody remembers who Peter Parker is, the poor boy is slowly building his life again, especially when it comes to MJ. He hopes to gradually restore their lost relationship when he meets another girl, a new contact he didn't know he needed.

Warning: Spiderman No Way Home spoilers but honestly, who hasn't seen that masterpiece at this point???

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"Aaand you're back," MJ commented as her regular customer entered the cafeteria she worked part-time in. It was about 2 months since this mysterious boy entered the place for the first time, his actions rather odd at that time. MJ could recall the way his puppy dog eyes stared at her for good 20 minutes before he blabbered out his order. And even then his dark brown eyes hadn't left her, following her behind the counter as she served him and other customers.

"Hey," he waved his hand at her quickly as usual before glueing himself behind the computer in front of her. He comfortably leaned both his hands on the wooden counter, rubbing his palms and sucking his lower lip as he glanced at the early summer offer filled with new special drinks. "You're gonna have chocolate moccha, right?" her quiet voice caught his attention, a small smile playing on his lips as he nodded. "You know it!" he grinned as she smiled back, pushing himself away from the counter. He sat at a small table in the corner of the cafe, where he had the best view of the whole counter.

While waiting for his coffee to be served by his former girlfriend who has forgotten him, Peter resolved to playing on his phone, checking the push notification of breaking news he got, one more bizarre than the other.

However, he didn't forget to check on MJ taking orders whilst she made his chocolate moccha, occassionally catching her eyes meeting his as he found her staring at him from time to time, making heat spread from his ears to his cheeks. Each time her lips broke into a small smile. Peter waved and smiled back, boping his head into the beat of the song coming from the speakers, when his phone buzzed.

Another notification interrupted him, making him jump from his seat, startling MJ who was just now bringing him his coffee. "I gotta go, sorry, thanks for the coffee, I'll drink it later!" he managed to spit out before his feet sent him flying across the cafe and out the door to the street, his heart cursing his unstable job more than ever.

"And he's gone," MJ spoke to the empty chair she was now facing, letting out a loud sigh as her body relaxed again, her second hand holding the cup now letting it go as she took the money Peter left behind. No matter how many times he has ordered and disappeared like this, she could never get quite used to the oddness of the boy.

"Hi, I am so sorry about yesterday, my job-" Peter rushed into the shop the next day, an hour before MJ's shift was to end.

"Excuse me? Can I help you sir?"

He stopped in his tracks, completely freezing on the spot as his head turned to the counter as an unfamiliar voice found its way into his ear.. But today, despite the schedule Peter has studied thoroughly, the girl standing in front of him wasn't MJ. It wasn't her smile, it wasn't her voice, it wasn't her eyes looking at him with curiosity. No, this was someone else, a new girl he hasn't seen before but he already could tell that he didn't like her very much. Mostly because it was supposed to be MJ, and it wasn't. "I'm sorry," he managed to let out, finally moving from the front of the door. The girl tilted her head, one of her eyebrows rising while her polite smile seemed to be fighting with an amused one.

"That's okay, what can I get you?" she waved her hand, the polite shape her lips were stretched into staying on top. She watched as Peter eyed the offer, unbeknownst to her, waiting for MJ to tell him his usual offer but his eyes were gliding through the different colours and prizes of the drinks for too long now.

"The strawberry milkshake is one of the best," she leaned in, following her gaze to the summer offers, a small smirk on her lips. "Really?" Peter looked at her briefly, pulling back at the sudden closeness before getting back to the offer, his chocolate eyes now stuck on the strawberry milkshake. "Then one strawberry milkshake, please," he forced a sweet smile, cursing himself for not ordering a chocolate moccha he craved.

"It's my favorite," the waitress nodded, her teeth showing as she typed the order to the computer in front of her. "Mhm," Peter only brought himself to hum, eyes wandering all around the cafe, in hopes of spotting MJ cleaning tables or coming out of the storeroom. But she wasn't in today.

"Where's MJ?" he found himself asking, eyes still looking at everything else but the girl in front of him. "She's not working today. Why?" he got back another question, his eyes finally meeting the girl's wary ones. "She was supposed to help me study," Peter came up with the first lie he thought about, immediately face-palming himself in his head. Yeah, sure, study, when he wasn't even attending a proper college. Yet, it seemed to convince her.

"Really? That's odd. She's on a vacation with her friends for next two weeks, so I don't get why she would offer you tutoring knowing she would be gone," the waitress raised her eyebrows, moving from the computer to the mixer, Peter finding himself following her unconciously, his eyes now stuck on her, beggin for answers. "With her... friends?"

"Yeah? Aren't you... friends?" The loud sound of the mixer cut Peter out before he could say anything back, making him stare at the moving mixture, contemplating his answer.

"I guess not... We don't have that much contact," he sighed sadly once the noise had stopped, the girl turning around just to watch his shoulders slump down as he sat by the wooden counter this time, completely ignoring his usual spot. "I'm sorry..." she hummed, pouring the milkshake to the glass in front of her.

"Maybe you should find some new contacts," her voice made him lift his head, watching her as she handed him the drink, taking it when the sun from outside broke  through the windows to light her up in its beams, all this for Peter to watch as a sweet strawberry taste from the straw spread on his tongue, bringing him to hum quietly in satisfaction. Her smile widened at his response. "Told you," she winked at him before getting back to work. And in that moment, he couldn't help but agree. The strawberry milkshake was truly one of the best he ever had.

"I attend MIT as well," the girly voice broke him out of scrolling through his phone mindlessly, the waitress standing in front of him once again.  "So, if you need any help, let me know," a hand appeared next to his drink, sliding a small paper towards him with a name and a phone number. "I'm Y/n," he looked up to find her with an extended hand towards him again. "You're new contact,"

That evening Peter found himself contemplating whether to call you or not. He held the small folded paper in his pocket on the whole way home, placing it on top of the books on his table as soon as he got into his small apartment. He stared at it for hours, picking up his phone from time to time, wishing he could text Ned or even MJ about it, but he couldn't. He didn't have their contacts, he had no one, there was only one phone number on his contact list and that was the old cellphone of aunt May, now lying somewhere under the ruins of their old apartment building. And that meant no one. He had no one.

Well, not exactly. Now he had a new contact.

You.

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part 2?

Just One Date

Finnick x reader!

A/N: I honestly REALLY like this prompt and felt like it could work for Finnick! It's a bit too sudden, but I think that's kind of the charm of this whole idea, sudden, unexcpected but exciting ;) I might make a part two cause I think I built too good of a background for reader (at least in my mind) so please let me know how you like it!

Warning: a bit of swearing and mention of killing if you squint

Prompt: “I need just one date.”

“You think you can woo me with just one date?”

“Absolutely.”

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It has been years since the perfectly arranged hell for Finnick Odair had started. But who would have thought about it? That the Capitol's sweetheart, the youngest victor who stole thousands of hearts across the whole country, now suffered in the wealthiest part of Panem?  Unimaginable. To be drowned in gold and washed in blessings, to wake up every day and have his plate filled with food and enough water to drink and bathe in, even for the whole day if he wanted but hate every single minute of it.

And though it was hard to grasp, that was Finnick Odair's case. Because Finnick dreaded every upcoming moment of his life since he was brought from his games as the victor, the survivor. The bloodthirsty drive to live, once warming his heart that followed him through each step in the arena, has now subsided, trapped by an iron fist of fear and desperation.

He could vaguely remember the first time those feelings had settled in, spreading through his veins like poison as he left his firts customer's bedroom, making him loathe every breath taken in and out by his body ever since. That's when he knew he would have thrown everything beautiful about his victorious survival just so he could live again. But that just wasn't the case for Finnick Odair, it simply wasn't his fate. And while his life was partially in his hands, he mostly felt like the blood of whatever part of himself he had killed was preventing him from moving on, from fighting. Maybe he grew tired of it. Maybe he thought he had enough of fighting for his whole lifetime.

He watched from afar, how fond the Capitol had become of District 12's star-crossed lovers, Katniss and Peeta. And for the first time ever since he was 16, something had awakened in him, a hope, that maybe this could be the end of his show. That maybe the citizens of Capitol had found someone else to watch and obsess about and he could finally be free. But that thing, that hope, was killed before it could even be aflame.

As he turned around from the glamorous couple, his eyes fell on the darkened blue ones, hidden like snakes in the snow made of white hair. The disgust, the abomination, the darkness screaming nothing but death brought Finnick to the harsh reality, once his gaze was met with Snow's. He was never getting out of this train. Not alive.

Until the spark inside him ignited again.

It was the meeting of the previous victors, one to which the new love-struck victors were not invited, yet they still happened to be the centre of its talks. Thankfully, the space was filled with only the comfort of people Finnick had known for a while and who had known him. There was a certain silent alliance the victors had built over the years. As he passed the familiar faces, sending polite smiles here and there, he caught a face that was very unfamiliar to him. You were new there, you have won only two years prior to Katniss and Peeta, the 72nd hunger games, which happened to be the opposite of the 74th year's sensation.

Finnick could remember meeting you in the Capitol, you're terrified tearfilled eyes meeting his, billions of questions behind them making his stomach turn there and then. But now you seemed just stiff, your guard high up. He would even go to the lenghts of saying you had an intimidating aura around you.

You could feel his stare burning your skin, so you turned around to face him, your mouth shaping into a genuine smile as soon as you saw him, your eyes sparkling in recognition. That's what he was talking about. All that pressuring shell fell right apart when you smiled or opened your mouth, earning you tons of sponsors back in your games. When you sent him your smile through your tears back then, Finnick could feel the butterflies rummaging through his guts. "Who are you staring at, Finnick Odair," Johanna's low voice beisde his ear made Finnick jump. "Johanna," he groaned, rolling his eyes as his right hand fell on his heart.

"The deceitful seemed to have caught you're eye, hm?" That was your nickname. The deceitful victor. Finnick remembered the talks once your games were over. You were called two-faced, a liar, and while some of the Capitol's people found this feature of yours absolutely unacceptable, others found it intruiging. After all it was thanks to your deceit, that you had won.

"They just seem rather... lost," he hummed, shrugging it off and turning to face Johanna fully. "Didn't expect you to come here,"

"Neither did I myself," she snapped back, looking behind her. "Blight dragged me here," Her piercing eyes slowly turned back, burning a hole in Finnick's face, the sole proof of the little affection the woman had towards him. "Charming. Make sure to say hi from me," Finnick grinned as Johanna scoffed, placing her hand on her hip and rolling her eyes dramatically. He could only nod, leaving the victor from the 7th District be as he made his way through the party again.

"They just did it right," one of the men in the group behind Finnick stated loudly, alcohol audible on his tongue by the volume of his voice. "Getting Capitol into their story, creating a perfect ballad except both of them survived to live the happily ever after," Finnick stopped in his tracks, the glass full of liquid spilling a bit on the grass under him, as he halted too quickly, not entirely sober either. He groaned as some of the drink got on his shoes but it didn't stop him from listening closely. "Do you get it? They are not harrassed by Snow or anyone, except the Capitol's undying obssession. They just continued to live in District 12, leaving as if nothing happened, as if they haven't just dismissed the whole history of the hunger games," a woman shrieked. Finnick smirked. Imagine leaving like nothing happened. That would be nice.

"That would be nice," another boy voiced the same thought. "To leave and spend your life with someone like that. They survive the games with you so you have someone to lean on, support, love, Capitol doesn't bother you that much, just to see what you already do naturally, it's-"

Freedom, was the word on Finnick's tongue. He didn't hear the rest of the sentence as it was drowned out by the sound of Finnick's blood flowing, his heart beating out of his chest as his eyes widened. Freedom, support, protection- no more abuse, no more hell, just peace. Finally, a bit of peace for Finnick Odair. His head spinned, his stomach turning from the sudden imagination, a certain heat spreading through his body, coming from his chest. The flame burned, burned in his eyes as he looked around, his eyes falling on you.

You were perfect. Capitol didn't have an exact opinion on you which was hurting your reputation as one of the victors. You could use some of those blessings Finnick was showered with daily. And he could use you. As his freedom.

His fast loud steps made you turn just before he stopped inches away from you, his feet rocking him back and forth for a while until he stabilised himself. You smirked as you thought about whether he was drunk, wanting to talk with you, but you were sure he had to be when his words hit your ears.

"Come on a date with me,"

You couldn't help but let out a loud snort, immediately clasping your hand over your mouth, the noise still audible. "What the fuck," your eyes landed back on his, the dark browns burning like two coals. "You're serious?" you stopped laughing, your eyes widening at him. "Yes," he nodded, falling silent again, waiting for your answer. "Why?" was another question that slipped out of your mind. You seemed to have caught him off guard, his right leg now tapping nervously. It was a good question. He didn't know himself, why, he just knew he was drunk enough to come up with such idea and sober enough to make it work. But he didn't think of you're answer taking so long. And you partially enjoyed it, finally seeing that confident Finnick Odair uneasy, his state suddenly depending on your answer. It made you wonder what was in it for him.

"Why not?" he finally spoke, voice raspy.

"Why yes?" you retorted back, making him roll his eyes. "We barely know each other, and correct me if I'm wrong, but this is actually about fifth time in our lives we even acknowledged each other,"

"So? Please, Y/n. I need just one date," he groaned, taking a step closer, you refusing to back away. It was always games, everywhere you went, the play never stopped.

"You think you can woo me with just one date?" you lifted your eyebrow in disbelief.

"Absolutely."

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>>part 2

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Just One Date pt.2

>> part 1!

A/N: Hi guys! You absolutely loved the first part of this and I cannot express how happy that makes me :D I am so thankful for every reblog, like and comment! Here's the awaited part 2, I really hope you'll like it! Should there be a part 3?

Let me know ;D

Warning: !spoilers if you haven't read the first part!, slight hint of drugs and swear words

Special mentions: @merromimo , @justtrying2getby

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Cameras. 

There were cameras everywhere as soon as you stepped out of the train. The citizens of Capitol had grouped around the station as if your arrival was worth looking at, and they certainly hadn't missed the show. Your breath hitched in your throat as soon as you saw the dark voids of lenses taking you in. They recorded your every step, which eventually led to tripping and falling off the last two stairs. They also manage to eternalise the way you landed into a pair of strong arms, the chuckle the person holding you made, and when you looked up, you saw the broad shoulders of Finnick Odair, covering you from the broadcast. 

"Watch your step, honey," he whispered with a sly smirk, making you look up. Anger took over your previous shock. You knew you could easily be the talk of the Capitol. And you couldn't care less about their shenanigans as long as you had the promise of peace. Because you knew they couldn't hurt you any more than they had already done. They couldn't hurt you any more than your own district already did. But you didn't expect it from any of the victors. Not from Finnick Odair. Though the question making you go crazy at that moment was, what did you really expect? 

You didn't expect of Finnick Odair to even glance your way, ever since you saw him in the Capitol after your games. Why he was there, you don't know. He acknowledged you a few times you happened to be at the same party in Capitol. You never expected him to approach you alone. Let alone, ask you on a date. And then bring the whole nation to come and watch your downfall. No, no matter what you had done in the past and how much you had come to despise your life, you would never allow anyone to drag you down like this. You had your pride to keep that for yourself.

And that pride led you to a small dimly lit room, somewhere near the station. Your memories were blurred by the red that kept colouring your sight, your chest rising up and down rapidly, with your loud huffs of air that fell on the face in front of you. He barely breathed as you held a small knife to his throat, his hands up in surrender, but that smile, that smirk on his face, you couldn't wipe it away even with a dagger threatening his thread of life to be cut. He was a victor too, after all, but you refused to step away now. "When you approached me," you started, still panting. "I thought you confused me with someone else. When you asked me out on a date, I thought you had to be totally wasted,"

"But you came-" Finnick hissed, making you push the cold metal against his neck even more, shutting him up. "I came because I never expected you to be so out of your fucking mind!" you retorted, your voice louder. The truth was, you didn't know why you came. You thought he might really have taken an interest in you. Was it that bad? To finally be able to escape your life in your district? No more spitting on you on the streets, no more threats, no more surviving. But as the seconds went by, you were more and more convinced that was the life you deserved. 

Meanwhile, Finnick was panicking inside. This was not how he imagined it to be, your dagger on his throat, the cold metal slowly grazing his dead skin cells before it could dig into his nerves and veins. He was so caught up in himself, so naive, thinking you would just roll with all of this. Now he thought you might stab him. Your guard was up, the smile from before was gone, it was replaced by anger, fury and... fear. You were scared. So was he. He could play on that. 

"I'm not out of my mind, sugar, you don't have to worry about that. And you don't have to worry about them," he nodded towards the locked door. "They won't hurt you anymore," His eyes softened as he spoke. If you could just play this with him, they will hurt neither of you.

Your eyes widened. "I'm not... I'm not worried about them," you relaxed your grip. And you noticed; Finnick did not take advantage of that. Then you let him go completely and he bent down, caressing his sore throat. "You have a nice grip," he nodded. 

But you stayed silent, watching him warily. "I swear, I won't hurt you," he extended his arms to you. You blinked a few times before your muscles relaxed. You haven't heard that sentence in 2 years. How refreshing, to have someone say that. But at what cost. "What do you want then?" you asked, still not letting him close enough. He smiled, gently. "You remember Katniss and Peeta?"

"The new victors?"

"Yes. I know how they survived this. We can do that too," he spoke softly, each word a seed in your heart, setting it ablaze. "How?" you asked too eagerly. "We will become star-crossed lovers ourselves," You gulped.

"Trust me."

He took your hand, opening the door to the outside. There were people on the sunlit streets, your hand in his soon enough catching their attention. You looked around, noticing their curious glances, the lifted eyebrows, faces of amusement. They wanted this.

Finnick spun you to face him, placing his palms firmly against your cheeks. "Do we have a deal?"

"Yes," you whispered, and with that, he pulled you in. Butterflies exploded in your stomach, his lips tasting sugar and ocean salt at the same time. They created a taste you could never forget. 

And if there was one thing you had to give to Finnick Odair, it was his charm. He did keep his word. He wooed you with just one date.

And that's how you happened to end up here. It took a few weeks, a few meetings, a bunch of interviews and you stood in one of the rooms in one of Capitol's mansions, the party downstairs at its peak. It took you a few kisses too, but you didn't dare to admit that it was your favorite part. 

A subtle knock on your door made you turn around as you tried to finish zipping up your dress. "Come in," you said, immediately smiling when you met Finnick's dark brown eyes. "Ready?" he asked, but you hesitated. "I don't know, I mean, what if they-"

"Hey, no what ifs, it's too late for that anyway," he came closer, placing his hands on your hips. "We'll just grab you a few drinks and you'll see how fast you'll relax," his warm breath tickled your ear as he turned your back to him, finishing your zip. "Finnick!" you hissed back instead of thank you, turning away to hide the redness on your cheeks. "I'm kidding! Just keep close to me and I'm sure you'll have the time of your life,"

"Yeah, can't wait for that," you mumbled as he gasped dramatically, your hand already in his, dragging you out and to the party.

As always, your entrance brought all the attention to you. It was like as soon as you started to appear with Finnick, his beams seemed to shine out of you too. He switched his grasp from your hand to your lower back, guiding you through the crowd, looking forward as if none of them existed. And everything seemed fine, until people actually started approaching you. You were terrified, unable to count how many times Finnick had to nudge you to relax before you could deprive his arm of any blood flow. Soon enough he was handing you a pink drink he fetched from the waiter, making you relax with every sip.

"Sleepless pills," one of the colorful guests smiled at you. 

"Huh?" you managed to say back. 

"It's a new pill from Capitol! Why sleep when you can eat this and stay up all night? Without feeling tired?" the woman squealed together with the man next to her. You looked up at Finnick to exchange shocked glances before you excused yourself, your head spinning, Finnick following you right after. "This is sick," you stated, leaning against one of the tables for support. 

"I'm trying to catch at least a few hours of sleep every night and they are creating pills to avoid it?" you couldn't believe the words you had just heard.

"Don't mind them, Y/n, you know they will never know what it is like," Finnick caressed your back gently, but his words and alcohol only made you angrier. 

"I think I need a minute," you breathed heavily, looking away from Finnick and down to the floor. "Should I get you water or something?" you heard him say, his words coming in muffled. You dragged yourself to the wall near you, sliding down your back and onto the floor. 

"I will get you-" you couldn't hear the rest, looking up and watching as Finnick's black suit disappeared in the crowd of walking rainbows. Then everything went dark.

When Finnick came back with water, you weren't there. In fact, you completely disappeared out of the hall. He looked around in panic, your name slipping down his tongue. He was ready to shout it at the crowd, maybe they noticed something while sipping the purple liquid...

Your drink was pink.

Finnick's face turned pale with realisation. And then he was shoving his way through the guests and out of the hall. 

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