#the descent of the drowned headers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bittykimmy13 · 3 years

Text

Hung with Care (GT)

A group of trinkets find themselves displayed for sale on a Christmas tree-- and one buyer is determined to have them all.

Co-written by the ever-fabulous @marydublin5 / @little-miss-maggie (who also made the header image!) <33

(Warnings: fearplay, dehumanization)

Alicia shivered. Although faint warmth hung in the air from the apartment’s heater, the red-and-white lingerie that barely cloaked her body did nothing to protect her from exposure.

She stood as far from the table as she dared, looking anywhere except the dizzying distance to the floor. Although she was tempted to take another pitiful step back from the edge, she did not want James to think she was making a run for it. Not that a trinket would make it very far. If he wasn’t so busy tonight, James would have delighted in the game.

Her heart lurched each time he turned his attention back to the table of trinkets. Alicia could do nothing other than watch as her fellow captives were plucked up one-by-one. Her only option was to dread when it would be her turn. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself when James’ hand barreled in her direction, but there was a squeal of alarm from beside her as the girl nearest was chosen instead.

“Stop squirming,” James said, chuckling as though the trinket was an unruly puppy. “Save it for the customers. I mean it—you don’t want this to be too tight, do you?”

Alicia peeked up to the sickening sight of James using a red ribbon to fasten the fighting girl to a candy cane. Her arms were pinned down securely, but her legs were left loose enough to wriggle. Once he was satisfied she would not come loose, he turned and hung her on the magnificent Christmas tree in the center of the room. The decorations were as luxurious as the apartment itself, but there was no question what the main attraction was: the trinkets tied up on the branches with bows and trapped in clear glass ornaments. The latest addition continued to squirm as much as her restraining ribbon would allow. For all her struggles, the branch barely twitched.

So possessed by the horrid sight, Alicia didn’t even register that she was the final decoration until James’ hand swept over the table and plucked her up between his fingers. She gave a choked shriek, shutting her eyes and panting. Her stomach churned at the thought of being tied to a candy cane, legs dangling helplessly over a deadly fall.

Without warning, the grip of his fingers vanished, and she fell a short distance onto a cold curve of glass. For a frightful second, she was back at the Rendition club, about to have a drink poured over her while huge faces laughed high above at her struggle not to drown. She braced her hands on the tight walls of her enclosure and looked straight up, finding that the glass curved all the way over.

The top of the glass ornament was secured, and before she could stop herself, she looked down. Empty air hung below her. She could pinpoint the spot where the ornament would shatter on the floorboards between James’ shoes if he let go. Her vision swam. She felt like she would faint at any moment.

A laugh reverberated through the glass, drawing her startled gaze up to James’ looming face.

“What’s the matter?” he cooed, giving the ornament a little swing from his pinched fingertips. “Scared I’ll drop you?”

She was too petrified to do anything except stare pleadingly.

He cocked his head, and she had only a split second to register his displeasure before she was falling.

A scream ripped through her throat, but it was cut short. Her descent came to a jolting halt when James caught the ornament in his other hand. She trembled so hard that she could barely push herself to hands and knees. At least she couldn’t see the floorboards now that his palm pressed against the glass beneath her.

“I’m pretty sure I asked you a question,” he said, bringing her back to his face. There was nowhere to look other than his eyes, which glinted with delighted malignance. “Are you scared I’ll drop you?”

She gave a wordless whimper and nodded emphatically.

James clicked his tongue, sighing as he looked her all over. One finger tapped pensively against the glass. “You’re so damn cute when you’re frightened. Let’s hope our friends think so, too.”

Another choked yelp echoed in the glass orb as James turned on his heel and brought her to the Christmas tree. He circled it twice before selecting a spot for her with care in the evergreen branches. His gaze skated over her objectively; a businessman merely staging his merchandise. Somehow, that was nearly as chilling as his malice.

When he was satisfied, he stood and took a few steps back to take in his handiwork. “Try to smile,” James said to them at large, motioning vaguely with his hands. “It’s Christmas, you guys.”

The apartment intercom dinged its cheery note in the overhead speakers. James grabbed a remote from the arm of the couch, turning on cheery holiday music that drowned out the remaining muffled weeping. Alicia watched with growing dread as he strode to the entryway and welcomed two impeccably dressed men inside.

Alicia didn’t bother trying to smile. She doubted she could manage even if she tried. Luckily, James was too preoccupied as a host to make sure the trinkets were following his command. She caught the two men’s names as James shook their hands. The dark-haired man was Pierce. The blond was Finch. It didn’t matter which was which, she decided as James offered his customers some cocktails. Both men had come with the sole intention of possessing a person.

“Hell of a snowstorm brewing out there,” Finch said with a shiver.

James chuckled. “Glad you were able to make it before it got ugly.”

“A goddamn blizzard wouldn’t make me miss this,” Pierce said, sipping from his cocktail.

Alicia was grateful to not be garnishing a drink. At least, not yet. The night was young, and these men did not seem the type to be patient with their purchases. Alicia willed her heart to stop pounding and accept the fact that there was no favorable outcome. Sold or not, there was no escape.

On a lower branch, Alicia spotted a burst of movement. One of the trinkets was in a panic, trying to jump up and find a way to undo the top of his glass ornament. Alicia clenched her jaw, inadvertently glimpsing the faraway ground. Then something equally horrific caught her attention—the customers had spotted the movement too, and realization dawned in their gazes.

“Always a fucking overachiever, James,” Finch said, elatedly clapping James on the shoulder on his way to the tree. “This is really something.”

As Pierce followed suit and made a beeline for the tree, their footsteps juddered straight through the branches. Alicia pressed her palms flat to the glass walls, breath catching at the resulting sway of her ornament.

The three figures filled her vision beyond the lush branches. Pierce crouched down to peer at the frantic male trinket encased in the ornament on the lower branches. Finch stayed on his feet, reaching out an arm. Alicia leaned away, holding her breath.

“You said you had eight,” Pierce said, his chin barely in view. “I only see seven.”

Her back was pressed against the curve of glass—this had put her just far enough in the shadows to avoid detection. Her bare feet slipped, toes curling against the frictionless surface. A moment passed, and then James made a noise of awareness and came over. Alicia cursed, bracing herself as his hand shot in the air and tilted her ornament with two fingers. She slid to the bottom. James’ amused face drew back, and Pierce leaned in. She stared at him, upside-down, and he stared back.

“Is she new?” Pierce asked.

“Hardly,” James scoffed. “I got her secondhand from Rendition downtown. Between you and me… I think she’s just afraid of heights.”

Finch shared a look with James, stifling a laugh that was both boyish and cruel. He knelt next to his fellow buyer, shouldering him slightly so he could get a better look. “That’s too fucking funny,” Finch said. “I don’t know how to break this to you, sugar, but you’re gonna have to get used to it sooner or later.”

She didn’t answer him, trying desperately to compose herself. It was too late. Without meaning to, she had drawn the most attention to herself, and to her horror, it wasn’t going away. Finch was determined to test James’ theory.

“So if I just—” Finch gave the ornament a sharp jab with his finger.

The three looming faces swung, and she caught a brief flash of the ground. She cried out and curled into herself, attempting to hide her face in her arms and block it all out, but there was no escaping their cruel amusement now that she had given them exactly what she wanted.

Chuckles rumbled through the glass. Tears of humiliation and terror promptly spilled onto her cheeks. Another poke at the ornament jostled her out of her fetal position. A sob wracked her shoulders when she was forced to brace her hands on the curve beneath her, putting her tears in full view of her tormentors. In her attempt to look away from their faces, she inadvertently glimpsed the fall once more, and she violently reeled back for safety that wasn’t there, hyperventilating.

Her view darkened with the approaching shadow of Finch’s hand again. Weeping, she braced herself.

“That’s enough,” Pierce said, rolling his eyes. “She looks like she’s gonna puke. But no judgment here if that’s what you’re into…”

Scoffing, Finch still closed the distance with his hand, but he didn’t jab this time. Instead, he ran a tender fingertip over the outside of the glass. Past his hand, Alicia caught a possessive glint in his eyes. Pierce rose out of view to continue circling the tree like a hungry shark.

But Finch stayed. “She’s a cute one,” he told James. “Maybe I’ll take another while I’m at it, but she’s mine for sure.” He raised his eyebrows at her and stroked the outside of the glass again, anticipating the moment he could actually touch her. “Aw, don’t be scared, sugar. We’re gonna have a great time.”

“Good choice,” James said, giving her a smug look of approval that should have been reserved for a prized animal about to be sent off to slaughter. “As for price—”

“I’ll take all of them,” Pierce said, calmly circling back around the tree.

Alicia didn’t think it was possible to catch James off-guard, but he certainly looked rattled. “You mean the rest of them?” he asked.

“No. I mean all of them.” His eyes slid over to Alicia. He gave her a desirous smirk that made her shrink away, a new pit of ice forming in her stomach. “The cute little acrophobe, too.”

“What? No, come on, I had dibs on this one,” Finch protested.

“Dibs? Really?” Pierce shot him a derisive look. He then fixed his gaze on James, his stance one of utter, ruthless confidence. “I’ve got to be somewhere in an hour, so I’d like to move things along. You quoted me at four-hundred per unit. I’ll give you five grand right now for the set.”

Finch was on his feet so fast, Alicia’s ornament was left swaying in his wake.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growled. “I came all the way here—”

“Not my problem.” Pierce glanced at his wristwatch, then back to their host. “Do we have a deal or what?”

Finch looked to James as though he might step up on his behalf. “Hey, I’ve bought from you three times this year alone. Repeat business. You just met this guy!”

James chuckled, stirring his drink. “Money talks. That policy hasn’t failed me yet. You gonna outbid him?”

Alicia saw Finch’s hand coil at his side and she shivered to imagine what he would do if he had her in his possession. “How do you know he’s not rebellion or some shit?” Finch insisted. “Or maybe a fucking reaper! How many people do you know buy this many at once?”

Alicia had never seen James hesitate like this on closing a deal—certainly not when he was being offered above asking price. James grew thoughtful and the room waited on his silence. He tucked his hands into his slacks pockets, ambling around the Christmas tree. Around his precious, 3-inch tall paychecks.

“He’s right, you know,” James remarked. “That’s a lot of trinkets for one guy. You equipped to deal with all of them at once? Not as easy as it looks, you know.” They can be awfully needy if you plan on keeping them around.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Pierce said. “I know what I’m doing.”

James stopped walking, an odd look coming over him. Alicia stared, trying to discern the sudden shift in his stance, that touch of a curious smile on his mouth. “Are you looking for a little taste-test?” he asked quietly. “Is that what this is?”

Alicia heard a few other trinkets choke in fear at the implication. Pierce’s silence was hardly a comfort as he met James’ stare head-on. After a moment, Pierce broke eye contact and typed a little on his phone. Shortly after, a notification lit up on James’ phone screen.

“I hope that answers all further questions,” Pierce said.

James rubbed the back of his neck as he scanned the message. His brown eyes glittered with excitement again, and Alicia was only momentarily pleased that this might be the last time she had to look at him.

“I’ll find a bigger box,” James announced calmly.

“Wait, what the fuck was that?” Finch looked between the two men wildly. “What did you tell him?”

“Hey, wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise for the little ones.” Pierce smirked sinisterly. “I’ve been dreaming up my Christmas present for a while now.”

Giving an enraged growl, Finch suddenly swept his hand out and snatched Alicia’s ornament from the branch. She screamed, but no one seemed to notice.

“At least let me buy this one,” Finch demanded.

James raised an inquiring eyebrow at Pierce, shook his head. “She’s mine,” Pierce said, matter-of-factly, “or I walk.”

With no more than a shrug at Finch, James strode off. “Better luck next time.”

“As if there’ll be a next time!” Finch pressed Alicia’s ornament so hard into Pierce’s surprised hands that she expected it to shatter. She curled into herself as Finch’s voice rumbled menacingly at Pierce. “Fucking choke on her, freak.”

He stormed off and slammed the door on his way out.

“Hmph.” Pierce looked down at Alicia. “Takes one to know one, right?”

A smarter trinket might have at least cracked a smile to get in their new owner’s good graces, but all she could do was stare like a deer in headlights. The thud of footsteps distracted them both. With Pierce’s hands cupped around Alicia’s glass prison, she could barely see over the top of his fingers as James strode back into the room with a colorful Christmas gift box.

“Should be big enough,” James said, setting the box on the table by the tree. Every trinket in view recoiled as he turned his attention to them, ready to start packing.

“Hope you don’t mind if I help,” Pierce said. The rock of his gait made Alicia’s breath catch all over again.

James snorted. “Be my guest.”

Not a moment after he said that, the top of Alicia’s ornament squeaked as it was unscrewed. She looked up in time to see it fly away. She was so braced for fingers to reach in that she wasn’t prepared for her prison to tilt. Catching a glimpse of Pierce’s waiting palm, she whimpered and pressed her back to the glass.

“No,” she breathed. “N-no, no, please…” There was nowhere for her to go, but her instincts weren’t easily quelled. She desperately scooted back and tried to ground her heels to avoid falling.

“Don’t fuss now,” Pierce hummed. He gave the ornament the smallest shake, proving just how inconsequential her resistance was. With a little shriek, she dropped to his palm and hurriedly scrambled to the middle to avoid the edge.

James laughed outright, and Alicia realized he had been watching the whole time. “I wonder what kind of noise she’d made if you grabbed her by the ankle.

“Trust me, I’ll get plenty of playtime with her later.”

Pierce moved so swiftly that she had no time to even think about how high she was off the ground. He tilted his palm into the box, and she slid onto a cushion of tissue paper that barely noticed her weight.

She was grateful to be free of that spherical death trap, but the knot of anxiety in her stomach didn’t let up. Pierce moved with an eagerness that rivaled James’ as they unfastened each trinket and loaded them into the box. She had a sinking feeling with every glance she stole that, as vicious as James could be, they were about to experience a new level of fear.

With all eight of the trinkets spaced carefully in the tissue paper, they resembled a box of living, shivering ornaments. Alicia wondered how Pierce could smile with all those tiny eyes on him, watching his every move with bated breath. He sighed out through his nose, brushing fingertips over the fronts of a few trinkets nearest him.

“Contact me if you have another haul like this,” Pierce said. “I can always make room for me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” James said, practically singing at the idea of his amount of money making a return.

The money was transferred. The buyer shook hands with James, and then the lid was fitted on. Light vanished. The sounds of the outside world became muffled, and Alicia’s own breathing caught louder in her ears.

It was a long journey in darkness. Some of the trinkets whispered their guess on what their new owner had planned for them. Whether he would be worse than James, if that was possible. The most likely discussed, Alicia thought, was that they were meant to be Christmas presents for Pierce’s friends. Stocking stuffers.

Alicia snapped out of her morbid wonderings when she heard a door unlock. She cursed herself for letting her mind drift when she should have been preparing herself.

“You guys holding up okay in there?” Pierce’s voice made her flinch as it resonated through the lid. “Don’t worry. I’ll have you out in a minute.”

Alicia’s heart hitched as gravity became tumultuous. She could sense that Pierce was trying to keep his purchase steady, but a simple movement like sitting down and laying the box on the carpet felt like descending in an airplane shot out of the sky.

At the last second, Alicia had the sense to hide herself from sight. She burrowed into a fold of tissue paper, covering as much of her body as possible. She was still squirming to adjust herself when the lid came off. She glimpsed a sliver of high ceilings and warm lights, soon eclipsed as Pierce leaned in.

She heard him suck in a soft breath, his lips parted with no words.

“What do you want with us?” one trinket, a male, probed him. His boldness could only come from the complete resignation of his fate. “What’s your thing, huh?”

Pierce’s sigh ruffled the decorative paper. “I’m sorry for all the dramatics back there. Had to be done. My name is Lee Rhodes, and I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to get you to safety.”

No one said anything. Alicia didn’t have to see their faces to know that no one in that box believed him.

Pierce—or rather, Lee, if he was telling the truth—sighed again, softer this time. The extended silence made her skin prickle, and she could practically feel his eyes scouring the box. Sure enough, he asked, “Why are there only seven of you?” The note of worry in his voice was strange, as though he might actually be concerned instead of upset that he was short of one plaything.

There was no point in hiding any longer. Nowhere to go. Once again, she had drawn attention to herself in the fight to avoid it. But she stayed put all the same, scrunching down lower.

A shadow darkened over the box. Sharp gasps and whimpers rippled among the prints. Alicia trembled, hearing the crinkle of tissue paper as Lee poked around in search of her. The sound drew closer and closer until there was a sudden nudge at her side. The touch was so light, it might have passed her by without notice if she hadn’t loosed a sharp squeak.

“There you are,” he said, sounding infinitely relieved.

Fingers dug deeper into the paper until they looped around her. She kicked and screamed for all she was worth, certain she was about to be the first victim in whatever cruel game he had come up with.

“No!” she begged. “No, l-let me go! I’m sorry for hiding! Please!”

His hand seemed to humor her struggles for a moment, but her flailing was soon engulfed in a secure grip, and he lifted her out of the box. Below, she caught dizzying glimpses of the other trinkets as they pitied her and feared their turn.

“Hey, take it easy.” Lee released her into a cupped hand. As she scrambled to sit up and center herself, his potent blue eyes sparked with recognition. “The little acrophobe. I should’ve known. It’s okay—you’re not too high off the ground now.”

She didn’t dare look, knowing he’d likely lift her far higher into the air the moment she did. She merely cowered under the shadow of his fingers and struggled for air that wouldn’t cooperate with her lungs.

“Sweetheart, you need to breathe,” he murmured. “You’re safe now. You hear me?” Something warm pressed between her shoulder blades and moved in a close circle. “Deep breaths. Can you do that for me?”

She whimpered and shook her head, but as his gentle touch persisted, the constricting feeling around her chest began to ease of its own volition. Obeying became easier, and she leaned back to look fully at Lee’s face.

Without the barrier of that damned ornament, she could drink him in more accurately. He was handsome, well-kempt, with dark hair pushed off his face. What threw her off was his gaze—kindness glimmered where there had been malice just an hour before. It felt real.

He smiled as she let herself relax into his grasp. “That’s it,” Lee murmured. “You’re doing great. Do you feel better?”

Alicia bobbed her head. She barely noticed his other hand approaching until a knuckle brushed at her cheek. The lack of personal space was usual for trinkets—the tenderness of this touch, less so. She felt tear trails smear on her cheek and begin to dry in the warm air.

“I’m so sorry for the hell he’s put you through,” Lee went on, a quiver in his voice.

“It’s not your fault,” Alicia answered, sounding small and meek even to herself.

Lee’s smile thinned. “It wasn’t yours, either. No one deserves…” He trailed off, words seeming to stick in his throat like he couldn’t bring himself to be explicit. He glanced away to address the others, too. “All that’s over and done with. I’ve got you now. You’re not playthings, decorations, or anything else those fuckers could dream up. You’re people here.”

A beat passed. One of the girls who’d been tied to a candy cane began to weep in relief, covering her face with her hands.

Lee made a noise of sympathy. He reached for her like he couldn’t help it. “Oh, sweetie…”

She all but clambered onto his palm, embracing his ring finger with desperate gratitude.

And then, it was as though an invisible barricade had fallen. Three other trinkets scrambled over and around the tissue paper to reach his hand. Alicia peeked up at Lee’s face. The soft look in his eyes quickly lit up with endearment—the kind that could be dehumanizing from the wrong person. But he was quickly proving to not be the wrong person. Even the trinkets who warily held back did not seem entirely frightened anymore.

Lee carefully lifted his hand from the box, ferrying the group of trinkets with ease. There was plenty of opportunity for them to hop off with how slowly he moved, but they stayed put.

Alicia found herself being lifted a little higher as Lee cupped both hands together and brought them to his chest. The trinkets were gathered into an embrace—snug, but not stifling. At first, Alicia grew tense again, but Lee’s slow breathing and gentle voice dissuaded her from panicking.

“You’re safe,” he said. “You’re all safe.”

Although Alicia couldn’t find her voice, she heard the other trinkets beside her murmuring their gratitude. Lee brushed his thumb over their heads and shoulder blades. They leaned into his chest, fears thawing away in the presence of his warmth.

The events that followed were like a whirlwind. The other trinkets were gingerly removed from the box, which Lee promised they would never have to look at again. He ushered all of them to a large, wrapped present under the tree. At first, Alicia was chilled when he said that was where they would stay. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she had been tricked into being part of a gift.

But as it turned out, it was not a mere cardboard box. It was a housing unit, built with polished wood and scaled for trinkets. The interior was elaborate, separated into private rooms that contained actual beds. There was even a storage area with clothing waiting inside.

“I had my buddy Will build it for you,” Lee explained. “Depending on where you’re sent, you might meet him sometime. Yeah, he’s a little weird, but ask him to build anything for you, and he’ll ask what color you want it in.”

That was when Alicia realized that Lee was no random good Samaritan. Finch was right to suspect him of being part of the rebellion.

Time seemed to settle back into place when Alicia found herself sitting near the fireplace with a cup of hot cider and a warm set of clothes. Some of the trinkets opted to stay inside their temporary home. After being cooped up in the ornament and the paper-lined gift box, Alicia couldn’t bring herself to be surrounded by solid walls just yet.

She sat apart from the other trinkets who had chosen to emerge like her. They spoke to each other in low voices and sipped their cider. Before long, footsteps thudded through the living room carpet, announcing Lee’s return to the room. The trinkets fell silent.

“Don’t mind me,” he told them. And then, as though he had some sort of gravitational pull to Alicia, he lowered himself to kneel beside her. She gave his steady gaze a few fleeting glances, unsure of what to say. “You don’t like it?” he said finally, nodding at her untouched cider.

“O-oh, it’s lovely, I just… This is a lot to take in.” She gestured around her at the cathedral-sized living room, trinkets wandering freely on the carpet. Like people.

“I can imagine,” Lee muttered, sadness and shadows flickering over his contended mask.

“Who are you?” Alicia asked. “I mean, who are you, really? You went through so much effort to do this. Lying to James… You’re lucky he didn’t catch onto you.”

“Money tends to quell prying questions. I’m just a guy trying to make things right however I can.”

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

Lee gave a nod, barely perceptible. “You'll stay here until my contact gives us a date to transfer you to a permanent location. It shouldn’t be a long wait.” He gave her a fond look. “But I never mind the company.”

Shyly, Alicia smiled back. She glanced at his hand, and it was like he could sense somehow she needed the comfort. She set her cider aside and inched toward him, knowing he wouldn’t deny her, yet dreading that inevitable ascent to dizzying, horrible heights. She shut her eyes and sucked in a breath as Lee’s fingers gently closed around her torso and legs.

“Wait,” he said. His hand flew off her, and she skittered back as the human unfolded his long legs to lay out on his side. “Here. Not so high,” he offered. “Is that any better?”

She gave a startled laugh. “How are you even real?”

Smiling, he rested his cheek down on his wrist and shrugged. “It is the season of miracles, isn’t it?” The glint in his eyes had a genuine yet strangely charming measure of conceit. He beckoned her with his other hand, and she stepped forward to show her consent.

The fingers curled around her again and lifted her fully this time. Her breath caught, but her nerves settled when she was able to look down and still make out the fibers of the carpet. He brought her to his chest, completing the cocoon of warmth around her. The pleasant scent of this woodsy cologne almost began to feel familiar.

All at once, exhaustion caught up. His cozy grip only served to guide her closer to drifting off. However, the rumble of his voice stopped her heavy eyelids from falling shut.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Alicia.”

“Beautiful.” His thumb glided down the back of her head. “Merry Christmas, Alicia.”

She curled snugly against his shirt and closed her eyes. “Merry Christmas, Lee.”

#gt #gt writing #print universe #giant tiny #size difference #fearplay #trinket universe #hung with care #mywriting

63 notes · View notes

alliswell21 · 5 years

Text

Password

A fic for @historywriter2007, @lovely-tothe-bone, @mega-aulover and @arbyeatscheesebuns from a Prompt about a professor on tinder... hope this one is to your liking!

————————

I come into my bedroom to find Johanna lounging on my bed, messing with my cellphone, like she owns the place.

“What are you doing?” I demand feeling all my nerve ends spike in warning.

“Nothing,” She drawls nonchalantly, looking up from my phone with those brown, wide set eyes of hers, too innocently to be true.

“What are you doing with my phone? And how the hell did you figure out my password?” I grunt.

Johanna flips the phone next to her on the mattress, stretching like a cat, and then sits up taking her sweet time.

“You know, Brainless, if you use the same password for everything, from your bank account, to your Facebook, and also your email, and the password is just your sister’s birth date and initials everytime, you deserve to get hacked.” She scoots off the bed lazily, “I’m done anyways. I took the liberty to check on your tinder for you. You’re welcome!” She smiles devilishly, sauntering out of the bedroom.

“Tinder?” I ask in confusion, diving for my phone to check it myself, because I’ve never signed up for a Tinder account. That’s just… not me!

A couple of swipes, and sure enough, there’s an icon for an app I would never download myself.

“How the…?! Fudge! Now I really need to change all my passwords! Lousy Johanna!” I mutter angrily under my breath.

“Jo! What did you do?” I run after her waving my phone. “Why did you signed me up for a tinder account?”

She rolls her eyes while raspberrying obnoxiously. “Katniss, we had this discussion Saturday, after Madge’s party. I said you needed to get laid before your lady parts became dusty, and you said it was cool when I suggested tinder.”

“I was drunk!” I screech.

“No you weren’t! You only had two beers.”

“Plus all the shots of tequila you practically force fed me!” I groan. “Johanna, I don’t want a tinder!”

“Kitty cat, it’s done. Plus there are some hotties there I already took the liberty to swipe right for you. Now you’ll be on their feeds and if the swipe right too when they see your profile picture, then you’ll be matched and you’ll be on your way to orgasmic bliss!”

I scrub my face with both hands, questioning my life choices, especially the one where I actually begged Johanna Mason to move in after my last roommate left the apartment.

Finally I say with resolve, “I’m deleting the account. I don’t want it and definitely don’t need it!”

“After all the time I devoted to create the perfect profile that made you look like a total bombshell?!” She’s glaring at me. “Do you know how many guys are showing in your feed? That means they’re interested in you, Brainless! Give it a try and live a little for once! YOLO and all that jazz, you’re no spring chicken anymore, you know.”

“Can it, Jo! I don’t have time for this!” I say hunching all over, “Thank you for the effort, but... this isn’t for me, Jo.” I say a little defeated.

“You’ll be fine, brainless, stop being so dramatic.” Johanna sighs behind me before I shut myself into my room.

My love life is nonexistent, just as I want it to be… at least while I’m sober it seems.

I flop on the bed, cell phone in hand, ready to delete the tinder app when I see there’s a message. Out of curiosity, I tap the icon and almost flat line at the name displayed in the header.

I scream. Loudly. I scream Johanna’s name like is a cuss word and stomp menacingly down the hall to scream at her some more, but I’m freaking out with anxiety to the point that my anger gets buried under other unpleasant emotions that make my stomach roil.

“What’s wrong?!” My roommate asks jumping off the couch, her eyes wide with concern. “Did something happened?”

I start stuttering and flailing my arms like a person drowning in the middle of the sea; it takes a shake from Jo to finally sputter, “My teacher!” I stare at Johanna with wild eyes and finally feel the anger return. “You matched me with my freaking Teacher!”

It feels good to lash out in complete control of my feelings.

“I did not!” Johanna shoves me away rolling her eyes and going back to plant her butt in front of the TV. “I wouldn’t have match you with some old fart looking for young tail on tinder.” She says dismissively. “I have my limits.”

I groan in aggravation. “He’s not an old fart. He’s only a few years older than me. He teaches my stupid Social Scienses class... the one I told you about.”

Johanna’s interest piqued, “Go on…” she prompts.

I sink into the couch next to her, afraid of my phone.

Getting my college education has been my very own personal Odyssey. What should have taken a normal student four years, has taken me seven, since at first I had to work full time to help my mother support our little family, while my younger sister finished high school. I would’ve kept supporting us if my sister hadn’t insisted I got into higher education as well; so at the age of twenty six and a half, a diploma is within my grasp. I don’t mind doing grunt work, but my sister was right to push me for more. I’m ready to move on to a higher bracket in the salary ladder, and to do that, I’m required a college degree.

I neglected the needed Social Science credits for my degree until this year. I had to scramble to get all my credits for graduation, and I needed a Social Science class to round up the requirements.

I decided to go with American Ethnich Studies because the odds were in my favor, since it’s a very sought after course and a spot magically opened while I was picking my schedule and was able to snatch it up. The class is not really an elective, but it fills pretty quickly, and for good reason: the curriculum is fresh, the material is interesting, the level of compelling information is outstanding, and I also rationalize that since my late dad was from Native American descent, it would be a great opportunity to acquire academic knowledge of my heritage and all the other cultures that make America a rich tapestry that go beyond race, gender and tradition.

But the man teaching the class is a whole other compelling reason on its own… not that I was aware of that tiny detail until I set foot in the classroom.

“So, are you gonna show me this professor that’s got your panties all twisted and damped?” Jo challenges.

I only glare at her for a second, before slumping my shoulders. “He messaged me.”

“What did he say?” Johanna is now on her knees on the couch, facing me, the mischief glinting in her eyes annoys me to no end.

“I haven’t read it yet…” I sigh staring at my phone like it’s a poisonous snake.

“Why not?” Jo demands.

“Because it’s my freaking teacher, Johanna!” I say at the edge of a panic attack.

American Ethnic Studies is the class I’ve done worse in my whole schooling career. I blame it all solely on the professor, Mr. Mellark, who’s name is flashing on my screen.

I don’t mean Mr. Mellark is a bad or even mediocre teacher; on the contrary, he is in fact very knowledgeable, kind, open, friendly and approachable. But the man is ridiculously handsome; his voice is deep and smooth like warm dark melted chocolate, his eyes are as blue and deep as a summer sky under an unruly mop of ashy blonde waves, and his smile nearly made my heart stop the first time I saw it aimed at me. Then is the rest of his body: ass round and firm scrumptiously encased in pressed slacks, and shoulders so broad I wonder how can he find the right size shirts to cover them?

In other words, professor Mellark is what I believe a modern Greek god would look like nowadays, which brings me back to my original statement, I never took into account how the looks of a man could affect my concentration in class, resulting in the awful marks I’ve been getting in the course all year.

Johanna snatches my phone from my fingers, and I scramble after her to retrieve it.

“Johanna!”

“Hush, Brainless!”

She sticks out her hand to stop me from grabbing back my phone. I see with horror she’s already unlocked the screen.

“Give it back!” I demand stretching beyond Johanna’s shoulder and finally wrapping my hand around my device. “Don’t read my message! It’s private!” I snap.

“Oh please! I already told you, nothing is private until you change passwords. Now… read the thing! Stop being a coward!”

I glare at Jo for a second, but ultimately turn my eyes to the small bubble with a great deal of anxiety, because now there’s not just one, but two messages from Professor Mellark waiting for me. I steel myself and finally let the words take meaning as I read.

Peeta Mellark: Hey Katniss, I saw you in my feed and grappled with the questionable propriety of my choices: a) acknowledge you, saying hello since we got matched and passing for creepy; or b) ignoring you by swiping left and passing for rude.

I guess I managed to answer that question already.

Peeta Mellark: I’ll take this slightly awkward opportunity to tell you your final grade: B

I say the words in a monotone, not really knowing how to feel. I want to laugh and bawl at the same time. This man is so witty even in writing.

“Well? Are you going to answer or what?” Johanna presses bluntly, practically breathing down my nape.

I push her away a fraction, and mutter, “Shut up, Jo. I’m thinking!”

“You gotta answer! Stop thinking!”

“What am I supposed to say back?” I ask her harshly.

“Tell him you can handle the D if he swaps that B for an A!” Johanna wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, as if I would ever say something as crass or forward.

“Are you crazy?! I can tell my teacher that!” I balk.

“You gotta say something!”

“I know!” I sigh and start typing, carefully choosing my words.

Katniss Everdeen: Hello, Mr. Mellark. I would have never thought you rude for swiping left. I completely understand. Believe me, tinder wasn’t my idea, but my best friend decided I needed to socialize more… so… here we are...

I cringe.

Katniss Everdeen: Thanks for the grades. I’m relieved to know I’ve passed the class, it means I’m officially a graduate! No longer a student!

For the first time I let the news sink in and bask in the knowledge that I am graduating and can’t help but smile and say a tiny “Yay, Me!” Under my breath at the same time I’m pumping the air with my fist.

Johanna shoves me aside to read what I wrote, and then makes a disgruntled noise. “I thought something sexy was finally said when you reacted so excited.”

I’m about to tell her that getting my diploma is exciting but a chime goes off, announcing another message.

We both peer down at the phone and I gasp. Mr. Mellark has responded, and there’s a smiley face and a question; Johanna is yakking about none stop next to me, trying to tell me what to say or how to phrase it, but I’m speechless and elated because the few lines my ex-professor has written are so unexpected but so welcome, is not even funny.

Peeta Mellark: Congratulations! I knew you could do it!

Peeta Mellark: By the way, call me Peeta, I’m not your professor anymore, and given the circumstances, I believe is kosher to be informal… friendlier.

Peeta Mellark: Also, I was wondering, since we got matched up and everything, would you like to have a cup of coffee or tea with me… since you're officially not my student anymore?

My fingers fly over the screen typing my answer in a flash. I don’t even have to think what I want to say.

Katniss Everdeen: Make it a cup of hot chocolate, and you have a date… Peeta.

His answer is practically immediate.

Peeta Mellark: It's a date then! Meet me tomorrow at my brother’s bakery? Corner of Twelve and Capitol? They have the best cheese buns to pair with that hot chocolate… and I’ll get the privilege to show you off as my date. My brother set me up on tinder too.

I’m not sure if the smile I’m wearing is for what I’m reading, or because I’m now free to fantasize about my teacher, but when I see the rest of his reply, I know this would’ve happened anyway some way or another...

Peeta Mellark: Full disclosure at the risk of still sounding creepy, but I think it was lucky our profiles got matched together. It gave me the chance to ask you out, and I sorely wanted to approach you, but didn’t know how. This is the perfect excuse. Thank you for swiping right.

“See, Brainless?! You’re welcome!” Says Johanna breaking the nice little bubble I was in.

I roll my eyes not even trying to stop my smile, “Fine, Johanna, thank you for swiping right… now get out of my phone, and don’t even try to crack the new password! Also, I’m definitely deleting Tinder!”

#everlark fanfiction #my fics #prompt #professor tinder

119 notes · View notes