#I hope us not me are starved of drawing Karma content | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maplecornia · 3 years ago

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chapter 15

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.04K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: these next few chapters i really like, they're a LOT of connection time between tae and yen. plus idk why but since a majority of this chapter happens in the rain it just makes it ten times SPOICIER

They leave you behind.

As you watch them go, you can't help but be reminded of that which you have lost. The sight of their hand linked together shocks you with a pain deep in your heart. Ignoring the lump turning in your throat, you bat away your memories, and try to rise and wave goodbye.

Keyword….TRIED.

“Oh, no you don't,” Taehyung says as he pushes on your shoulders, sitting you back down.

You plump down on the wall, tilting your head up to glare at him. He meets it with a look of his own, before slowly bringing the ice up to his face, and grinning almost manically. You roll your eyes, leaning back, and he chuckles, positioning himself on the ground with the ice.

“So, what were you telling those kids anyway?”

You sigh, taking out your sketchbook once more as he tries his hardest to open the bag. You only need one pencil at the moment to finish the drawing, so as you bring it out, you smother your smile at his struggle, resisting the urge to mutter karma underneath your breath.

“Nothing much….just a story they asked me to tell.” You explain, not wanting to draw attention to your drawing or have him looking at it any closer than he has to. There’s something about him looking into it, about him seeing what you can see that scares you.

“Are you okay?” His voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you blink, looking up at him, and finding his eyes mere inches from yours. His hand rests on your knee as he pushes himself up to meet your gaze, his long dark eyelashes fluttering as he blinks. As you slowly nod, he pulls away, chuckling. “For a moment there, I thought I lost you. Where did you go?”

“Nowhere. I was just...spacing out I guess.” You say, shrugging it off, and resuming your preparation. You twirl your pencil in your hand, smirking as Tae finally opens the bag, the contents inside spraying out in an explosion. He lets out a surprised splutter, and you release a small laugh before turning away and starting your lazy task of filling in the last minute details of your work.

He brings some of the ice out of the massive bag and places it inside one of the many plastic Ziploc bags he had hidden in his backpack. Why he has Ziploc bags in there, you don't know, but who are you to judge when you have “emergency towels” in yours? Once he closes the bag, he turns to your foot, which you have delicately placed over your right leg to rest it. He reaches for it, but hesitates, looking up at you.

“Ummm...may I? That is to say, is it okay if I….ummm…” he asks a bit uncomfortably, and you raise your eyebrow at him over your sketchbook, smirking a bit just to tease him. He doesn't move, his hand held in an awkward hovering position over your foot, and you try to resist the urge to laugh at the uncomfortable look on his face.

“I suppose. That is if you don't mind the stink.” You remark, and he wrinkles his nose at you. You chuckle as he turns away, preparing to pull off your shoe.

He zips down your wedge and pulls it off of your foot, gently. Almost as if you were Cinderella. As he pulls off your shoe, setting it beside the rest of the ice, he makes a big show of how “stinky” it is, pinching his nose. You laugh, hitting him on his arm, and he laughs too, flinching away.

“I’m just joking! I'm just joking!!!” he cries, laughing before you end your attacks, giving him the stink eye. It's pretty futile, considering you can't stop the grin from spreading on your face.

As he works, examining your leg, his hands explore the space between your calf and your foot. With a soft touch, they tenderly search for any sign of swelling, anything that might indicate a trip to a hospital, or something worse than a mere bruise.

As they touch the space between your tights and your foot, where the material breaks and his soft fingers brush over your bare skin, a shudder passes through you. Your heart accelerates, and you can feel it as your face flushes beet red. Immediately, you hide behind your sketchbook, clenching your eyes tightly shut. You try to tell yourself to ignore it, that they are just fingers, just the touch of someone who's trying to help you out.

However, the fact that they are his fingers, the fact that it is his touch, refuses to be ignored. Finding your breath has come short, you glance at him, hoping that he hasn't noticed. Thankfully, at the moment, he is too distracted by his inspection.

Eyebrows furrowing in concentration, he decides to pull off your sock to get a better look, this time not even asking your permission. As he does, you hiss in pain, his fingers passing over a tender spot on your ankle. He immediately stops moving his hands, flinching off you as he looks up.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks softly and you shake your head, pulling back a bit and swallowing hard. Now you're worried, you didn't think it would be this bad.

“Can I…?” he inquires, gesturing back to your leg, where his hand rests carefully underneath your ankle. You nod mutely, swallowing hard, as you set your drawing aside and position yourself securely on the bench. You brace yourself for the next time he touches you, pulling the sock completely off and setting it inside your wedge beside him.

This time when you feel the sting of pain, you merely wince, sucking in a small intake of breath. He looks up at you, as though asking if you're okay, and you shake him away. He nods before inspecting your ankle. As he angles your foot to the side, your eyes widen at the sight of your ankle.

Curse that damn suitcase.

When you fell, you felt your ankle twist beneath you because of the suitcase behind you, but you didn't imagine it would have this much of an impact.

The entirety of your outside ankle is discolored, a mixture of blues, purples, and dark greens to show you that it is a bruise. It's begun to swell, turning into an ugly injury, one that you can't possibly walk on. When you tried to walk earlier, you only made it worse, making it swell and discolor; hardly giving it any time to heal. Your tight shoe put only more pressure on it, which didn't help matters.

“Taehyung….”

“I told you.” His voice is soft, but you can hear the frustration behind it. The anger which makes his words sting, which makes you wince. As he looks up at you, you can see the irritation clear on his face. Accusing you, forcing you to admit that you were wrong.

“Why didn't you listen to me? Now….” he breaks off, shaking his head as he swallows hard and picks up the Ziploc bag of ice. You stay silent, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to apologize for your pride.

Taehyung carefully wraps your leg in the ice, bringing out the athletic tape he keeps in his backpack. Truth be told, he had almost forgotten that he had it with him. He silently thanks Jungkook for convincing him to carry athletic tape with him. Who knew that he would have to use it to treat an injury that a stupid girl refused to treat herself?

Watching you do this to yourself...

It's almost as though he were watching Jungkook tire himself out to reach perfection.

As though he were watching Jimin starve himself, or work himself to exhaustion because he never believes himself to be enough.

As though he were witnessing JHope sacrifice his happiness just so that everyone else can be happy.

As though he were watching Namjoon and Suga work so tirelessly to produce their music, just to make it as perfect as they believe it should be. Sometimes sleeping at the studio, or staying awake through the night.

It’s even worse when he sees Jin in you.

When he sees how you give everything up. How you give yourself up just because you’re trying to hold everyone else together. Just because you’re trying to hold yourself together. Just so that you won’t break. You feel as though your pain is nothing, as though you are nothing compared to everyone else and that to fix yourself, you have to save others.

Tae sees that in Jin every day.

All because he wants their happiness over his.

Tae hates that.

It's almost as if, watching you, he were watching his friends waste away just so that they can succeed in a life that won't last forever.

It angers him, that he can't protect them from a pain that isn't so easily cured.

Now...he's feeling the same anger towards you.

You regard Taehyung with wary eyes, watch as he secures the Ziploc bag around your ankle with athletic tape. Something he had randomly in the simple black backpack which rests on his shoulders. He has to make at least two more bags of ice before your entire ankle is covered, the ice offering a sweet relief from the pain you were experiencing before.

You have to refrain from letting out a deep sigh of relief as it immediately begins to erase the pain, but you manage, biting your bottom lip softly. He nods in satisfaction as he finishes, letting your leg rest gently back on the ground. As he finishes, his eyes rise to yours.

“I'm sorry.” You whisper, and he looks away, as though reminded of why he was mad at you. His hands release your leg and he gathers all the materials he used to help you out, starting to put them away. You continue, trying to explain yourself, as though that will somehow make things better. “I guess I didn't want to trouble you, I didn't mean--”

“Why?” His question is soft, but immediately cuts you off.

“What do you mean?” you ask him, as he puts away his supplies and scoffs.

“Why was it such a problem?” he asks as he raises his eyes to yours. Despite the hat, you can see how his eyes pierce into yours. How they tear down every wall you have ever built and shock you deep into your core. When you don't answer him, he continues, tying the large bag of ice once more, and leaning it against the park bench.

“Why did it matter if I wanted to help you? It was my choice, my issue. So why did you try so hard to walk away?” as he picks up your shoe and offers it to you, he rises as well, holding it to you. Slowly, you take it, placing it on top of your satchel. There’s no way you're going to fit that around your ankle now.

You sigh before answering, almost unsure of what to say.

How to answer.

You’ve always been like this. Never accepting help, wanting to do things on your own….it's just how you are. It wouldn't change just because you meet someone slightly more famous than everyone else out there, that's just not how it works.

At least, not for you.

“I didn't feel like I should burden you.” You murmur.

As you say the words, he can't help but stare at you, all of his frustration fading away. He can't help but feel surprised at the answer.

“You're not a burden,” he says softly, drawing your eyes to meet him. He smiles kindly at you. “I wasn't obligated to help you, I wanted to. So don't worry, you aren't a burden.”

Lost in the moment, neither one of you looks away.

So lost in him, you almost don't hear the thunder before the first lightning bolt strikes the sky.

You both break away at the sound, staring up at the sky.

The rain starts as a mere trickle of sprinkles but soon grows into a roar of harsh, pounding droplets of tears from the sky within a few seconds. You flinch away from it, immediately dropping your head and shielding your eyes from the rain. Taehyung does the same, flipping up his hoodie over his hat, as though he needed more protection.

People are running from the rain, heading for cover. There are shrieks everywhere as the downpour begins, and surprised bystanders try their best to hide from it.

You take it all in with wide, dazed eyes, but honestly, you can’t feel anything.

Maybe you should be panicking, maybe you should start moving, trying to find some kind of shelter, but you just sit there. Your eyes glazing over, the rain around you reflecting your hopelessness, your despair, your pain. It all combines into a cold numbing feeling that resounds through your body, makes you go still, makes you retreat into the flaming chaos of your mind.

Taehyung starts saying something as he turns from you, surveying the rest of the crowd.

You try to hear him, you do, but as your eyes wander over to the bench beside you, they are lost, in the roar that starts to grow in your ears. Your heart immediately drops to your stomach in disappointment and panic, as you see it.

Your sketchbook, open and bare, on the bench next to you.

It lies there, vulnerable, as the raindrops desperately soak up the page.

Frantically, you snatch your sketchbook off from the bench beside you.

Biting your bottom lip, you hide it in your massive coat which still hangs around your shoulders, trying your hardest to dry it off in frantic fear. You try to ignore the lump turning in your throat, try to ignore the burning behind your eyes.

Was it all for nothing?

You swallow hard, holding your sketchbook safe to your chest, your coat protecting you so far from the rain which has fallen. You would have stayed there through the whole storm, wallowing in self-pity, if not for Taehyung.

As the rain pelts down, the storm growing fiercer by the minute, he literally has to take you by the arm, and shake you before you awake and finally register what he's saying.

“Did you hear me?!” he shouts, his hand tight and cold around yours. It's drenched, and his hat is dripping as he leans in front of you, shouting words you barely register. It's only then that you hear the deafening roar of the storm, the faint screams, and shrieks around you, and his panicked voice. It’s only then that you feel the cold, the water running off of your body, the shivers coursing throughout. It’s only then that you awake from the thoughts consuming your mind.

Looking up at him, you allow yourself to be a bit amazed.

He woke you up.

“Come on! We have to go!” He shouts as he tries to pull you up. His slick grip tightens around your hand, as his urgency grows. Pulling on your arm, he tries to drag you along with him as he walks away, but you stop him.

You tug back, your hand slipping out of his. Pausing, he turns to you, confused. Raising your eyebrow, you mutely gesture down to your ankle, at the melting ice pack and makeshift compress he made for you.

His eyes darken with understanding as he moves back beside you.

Placing your arms around yourself and holding yourself in a tight embrace, you shiver in silence. You have gotten used to the rhythm of the droplets which fall on your head, drenching you from head to toe, and plastering your hair to your face and the back of your neck. They uncomfortably roll down your skin leaving behind small paths of rivers on your skin as though branding you with its mark.

You carefully slide your sketchbook into your satchel, closing it up tightly along with the rest of your art supplies. You stare at it, swallowing hard as you try to ignore the tears which threaten to spill on your already wet face. The trees' dense leaves have succumbed to the weight of the rain, and no longer offer much shelter for you, but as of this moment, you could care less. Smiling slightly, you bow your head, already resigned to waiting here through the rain.

As you clutch your coat tighter around your body, it takes you a moment, but soon you realize that the steady drum of the rain is no longer playing on your head.

Confused, you lift your bowed head and find Taehyung before you.

He stares down at you, those hazelnut eyes regarding you with guarded pain. Inches away from you, his hands are extended so that they rest on the tree trunk directly behind you. You share the same breath, the same heat, the same protection. He has provided a haven, a place where you can be safe from the storm around the two of you.

You meet his steady gaze with one of your own, a bit surprised.

“We have to go.” He whispers, his lips looking more glossy than ever amidst the humidity and the rain dripping off of his face. You swallow hard, forcing your eyes away from them and meeting his eyes, desperately trying to ignore how the rainwater has made his face shine in a very distracting way.

“I know that you can't exactly walk right now, but I’ll carry you.” He offers, pushing himself off of the tree trunk, and holding his hand out to you. You don't take his hand right away, regarding him with wary eyes. Tae grows impatient and bites his bottom lip with anticipation as the wind starts to blow harder, the storm growing worse by the minute.

“What are you waiting for?!” he shouts over the deafening gusts.

You hope your hesitation isn't too obvious, but Taehyung notices.

Of course, he notices.

If Jungkook were here, would things be different? Would you trust him to take you to safety?

He’s always felt as though he weren't good enough. Not for ARMY, not for his hyungs, not for his family, and now…

Not for you.

“What about your backpack?!” You call out to him from your perch on the bench, trying to distract from the real reason and bring up a new problem. A bit confused, he looks at his back as though he had forgotten it was there. He ponders the question for a moment before shrugging it off his shoulders and holding it out to you.

“You could carry it instead!” He responds, and you slowly take it, securing it around your shoulders. When you're finished, he looks at you expectantly. “Are you ready?!”

“Are you sure?! Wouldn't it be better to wait for the bus to come back?!” You cry out over the start of the storm. Taehyung, drenched already from standing in the rain for too long, rolls his eyes almost before taking you forcibly by the hands and lifting you off the bench.

Not expecting the action, you jump to your feet. Your foot failing you once again, you fall into his waiting arms, your hands resting securely on his chest. Shaking your head slightly, you raise your eyes to his and falter. The fact that he’s so close to you, that he’s holding you, causes your heart to soar with unimaginable emotion so much so that it's near impossible to pull away. His arms are secure around your waist, hands pressing against your back as you lean on him.

His eyes stare profusely into your own as you gaze at him, searching his deep pools of color. You're able to see the tiny raindrops which have caught onto his thick eyelashes, the smooth angle of his cheekbone, the defined muscle of his jawline.

You're lucky your hands are clinging to his chest because if they weren't, you might've gotten too close for comfort.

On the other hand...perhaps you're already too close.

You avoid his eyes, biting your lip furiously, as you command yourself to hold back. Now is not the time or place for your imagination to run wild.

His hands respond to your touch, wrapping themselves around yours as though instructing you to keep them securely on his chest. As though refusing to let you fall.

Breathing heavily, you look up at him at the touch, your wide, hesitant eyes searching his.

“Trust me.” He says, close enough now that he doesn't have to shout, recreating a space for the two of you to exist in. “I promise you won't fall, so trust me, please.”

When he looks at you that way, beautiful hazelnut eyes staring deep into your soul, it's hard for you to say no. You nod, mutely, and he smiles. After a moment, he slowly releases his hold on your waist, wrapping his hand around yours and directing it to rest on his back as he kneels on the wet, dirty concrete sidewalk, his back broadening as his muscles stretch to fit the position. Gathering your emotions, you hesitate, wondering if this is a wise idea, but Taehyung cuts through your thoughts.

“Just hop on! Act like it's a piggyback ride!” he instructs from the ground, causing you to smirk before you raise your coat over your head and prepare to climb on.

“Isn't that exactly what it is?!” you bring to his attention.

He smirks, unable to prevent the soft laugh from escaping his body. Letting out a soft sigh, you prepare to board him, as though he were a train, analyzing the best way to get on. You secure your injured foot first, and he wraps his firm arm around it, making sure that it's safe from the rain. Your other foot comes next, and you wrap it carefully around his waist, in the little bent position like most piggyback rides. With the other leg, you pull your entire body weight on him, wrapping your hands around his chest, right where his collarbone meets his pectorals.

As your entire body rests on him now, he is acutely aware of it. He tries his hardest not to blush, reminding himself that this was his idea, that he was the one who pushed for this. He tries to ignore the fact that when your hand accidentally slides up a bit and grazes his throat, he can't help the shudder that passes through his body as he immediately looks to the floor. He swallows hard, his eyes burning a hole in the ground as you pull your coat over the both of you, offering a sort of canopy or umbrella against the rain.

Once you've finished, you position yourself so that you're secure on his back, your face resting in the crook between his neck and shoulder. An action which he certainly feels as his heart seems to drop to the bottom of his chest at a million miles an hour. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself before turning to face you as best as he can. You pull back your face a bit as well so that you can get a clearer view.

“You ready?” he asks you, half teasing, an inquiry which makes you smile.

“Are you?” you ask in turn, and he looks away, laughing a bit before rising to his feet with surprising swiftness. You almost fall with how fast he stands, and you have to scramble to secure your hold around his neck. He laughs hysterically at your reaction, and you have to fight to keep your smile at bay before you smack him on his shoulder. You can feel him laugh beneath you. It's a warm sound, something that resounds throughout his entire body.

“Don't do that!” You demand, pouting almost before his laughter subsides. He glances at you once more over his shoulder, smirking at your pouty expression.

“I thought you said you were ready.” He challenges, raising his eyebrow, and you roll your eyes at him, lifting your head off of his shoulder.

“Correction. I said, ‘are you?’ Technically I never answered your question.” You retort and he chuckles, nodding as he turns his head to the road before the both of you.

“Is that so?” he asks and you nod. Finding it more comfortable to rest your head on his shoulder, you lean forward, your hands sliding down his chest with the movement. He falters at the touch and tries to drown out the incessant pounding of his heart with his voice. A futile effort, but an understandable one.

“Well, now's the time. Here, I'll ask again.” You roll your eyes at his condescending tone.

“Are you ready now?”

You wait a bit before answering his question, if only just to get on his nerves a bit. Overdramatically, you raise your hand to your chin, pondering the question and making a sort of humming sound as though you're thinking hard about it. He notices the sarcastic notion and scoffs. You pause for too long, however, and he grows tired of waiting.

After a moment, he raises his eyes to the warm canopy of your coat that you have offered, and pretends to drop you once more. Leaving you to cling to his neck frantically and him dying in a fit of laughter. You hit his head in retaliation this time, and he ducks, unable to stop his laughter. You can't help but laugh as well. When you gain your composure, you raise yourself a bit, by placing your hands on his slick head and pointing forward.

“Onward!” you cry. Taehyung chuckles to himself from underneath you, trying his hardest to gain his composure but failing miserably. “Go to Narnia!”

When you tap his head slightly as though they were the reins of a horse, his laughter fades and he smirks at you over his shoulder. At that look, you automatically wish you hadn’t said anything at all.

“Oh no.” You groan before he turns back to the road, and breaks off into a run down the street. You let out a startled laugh, barely managing to secure your hold around his neck before he’s speeding off into the distance. As he runs, you cling onto him for dear life, smiling with content as you rest against the crook between his neck and his shoulder.

A small space, yet you fit perfectly.

As though it were made just for you.

You hold tighter to him, and close your eyes, trying to convince yourself that this isn't a dream; that this is all real. That you are this close to Taehyung and it's not just something you made up in your mind.

You try so very hard, but when you open your eyes when you see his grin…

You are shocked all over again.

Once more, you find it hard to believe.

In an impossible situation, is it okay to believe that it's not all in your head?

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: so when i was reviewing them, i was like omg, i did NOT realize how many intimate scenes i put in there so ;-;

chapter 16 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

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dontsendmebacktoreallife-blog · 8 years ago

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Hurricane Romance

The wind and rain could be heard throughout the building, I was helping to carry the rest of the supplies up to the various rooms our company had been able to secure for the entire film crew. Unfortunately the warnings had come too late, so the entire crew had been stranded in Florida to ride out the hurricane together. I walked along the hallways holding a few bags of supplies, knocking on each door I needed to pass out various bags of food, water and a few other essentials.

I darted along the corridors with the last two bags in hand, one for myself and then one for a lead actor on the project, I scanned the hallway looking for room 1070, and finally paused once I found it, last room on the right hand side, I sighed, knocking on the door, I realised my hands were shaking slightly, probably from my lack of sleeping and food over the course of the past 24 hours. Shaking my head I knocked again, and waited for a response.

A moment later the door swung open, and Sebastian stepped forward, his hand was running through his brown curls trying to settle down the strays, he had obviously been lying down or possibly even catching up on some sleep.

'Sorry to bother you, but I'm on supply delivery duty' I said, holding up the white and red bag in my right hand,sighted I added, 'sorry it isn't much, just a few sandwiches, crisps and some other snacks and then some water for now'

'Nah it's alright, hopefully we won't be stuck in here too long' he said, offering a smile as he reached out to take the bag from my hand. 'Sorry you got stuck with the delivery run' he added, holding the bag up.

'Oh just part of the job' I said laughing it off, I honestly didn't mind doing the run around, thankfully it gave me something to focus on other than the category 4 hurricane outside the building.

'I would kill for an iced coffee right now' Sebastian said, peering at the contents of the bag in his hand. I nodded in agreement, Starbucks was a guilty pleasure for me, I was always the first person in the group to find the closest store whenever we were in a new town.

I turned around to start leaving when I saw Sebastian move a little closer toward me, opening his door up, 'want to come inside for a bit?' he asked, gesturing to inside his room. I hesitated before nodding and turning around to enter his room, looking around the hallway in case anyone else was around.

I walked further into the room, hearing Sebastian close and bolt the door as I placed my bag of supplies onto the desk next to the TV, and Sebastian did the same thing as I moved over to the bed, and quickly kicked my shoes off before jumping onto the king sized bed and making myself comfortable against the headrest picking up the pillow next to me and resting it on my lap, giving my hands something to rest upon.

'Making yourself comfortable there Katie' Sebastian chuckled, walking over to the bed and jumping on the opposite side of the bed, getting himself comfortable, reaching over to take the pillow from my lap, 'don't hog all the pillows' he laughed, easily winning the quick tug-o-war of the pillow and slipping it behind his back, as he leant back.

I looked at the TV seeing it was off,and reached over to the bedside table to grab the remote, 'had to be something worth watching' I said, started to flick through the various channels, hoping something could capture our attention as we waited out the storm.

After a few minutes I had unsuccessfully gone through all the TV and movie stations they were currently streaming, I put the remote down in between us, and turned to face Sebastian, his eyes were closed, making him look nice and peaceful lying next to me.

Of course I had to ruin that, and leaned over to poke his cheek, giggling as I jumped back as I reached out to grab my arm, pulling me across the bed so I was not sitting up against his shoulder, as he looked up at me.

' anyone ever tell you to leave a resting man alone ' he chuckled, reaching over to place his hands on my hips as he started to tickle me, I tried my best to keep a straight face but gave in after a few moments, almost doubling over on the mattress next to him.

'Ok.. Ok I'm sorry' I laughed trying to push back myself against him to sit back up straight, his hands never leaving my hip as I leaned back against the headrest, looking down at Sebastian as he tried to sit up next to me, using his elbows to prop himself up.

' I tried waiting, but I'm starving already, want to halve a sandwich' I offered rolling off the bed, walking toward the desk, and opening both bags, 'we have ham and cheese, cheese and ham and a chicken salad' I said, flicking through the contents of the bags in front of me.

Neither option seemed fabulous right now, but it would have to do. I turned to look over at Sebastian who was playing around with the remote, 'well...??'

'Oh haha sorry, second option' he said, looking over and giving off one of his signature smiles, his fingers still flicking buttons on the remote as his eyes went back to the TV on the wall.

'Cheese and Ham it is then' I said, flipping the pre packaged sandwich in my hand, and grabbing a bottle of water and then tried to balance everything along with 2 cups so we could just split the water, 'rationing at it's finest' I muttered dropping everything on the bed, as I jumped onto the bed, landing against Sebastian's body.

I turned to look over at the TV hearing some familiar sounds coming from it, and then I realised Sebastian seemed to have found the music channel, and thankfully for us, they were playing an 80's mix of music, something I knew we both loved.

'Why don't they make music like this anymore?!?' I asked, gesturing toward the tv set.

'80's music is just simply the best, though I doubt they will play my favourite artist' he said, sitting up against the headrest, causing me to fall back gently alongside him.

' Tiffany right?" I said, casually, we had been on set for another movie a couple of years ago, and I remember walking into his trailer hearing his ipod playing in the background, and turning around to seeing him jamming out in the middle of his trailer.

'yeah , one of my favourites' He said, smiling, 'you're a Culture Club fan aren't you?!' chuckling in response when the next song started playing on the TV and it was Karma Chameleon.

'Haha like you timed that' I said nodding in response, 'want to know a fun fact about myself?!?' I offered to him, trying to pass the time, he nodded looking over at me intently.

'I use to think this song was about an actual lizard, so when people would ask me what my favourite song was, I would respond with the Lizard song' I paused, and then laughed, seeing the confused look on his face.

'That's actually pretty adorable' he said, 'makes sense though I mean the song is up to interpretation anyway' he reached out resting his hand on my leg. We sat in silence for a few moments until I couldn't wait any longer and reached forward for the supplies.

'Here you go' I said, opening the package and holding out his half the of the sandwich.

'Too weak can't hold it' he said, holding his hand up only to have it fall back against his stomach as he started to fake shake them.

'Guess i'll just have to eat your half then' I laughed, I went to jokingly put the sandwich in my mouth when he reached out to grab it from me suddenly, causing me to start laughing at his antics.

We sat in silence both of us quickly devouring the halved sandwich. The wind started picking up outside and I could tell the storm was starting to get worse, I sign that it was starting to build up which meant we would hopefully be out of this situation soon. My heart beat raced slightly as the lights in the hotel room started to flicker for a few moments. I noticed Sebastian sit up quickly next to me, looking around the hotel room.

'Well this is wonderful' he muttered, 'hopefully it was just a once off'

'I hope so too' I responded, standing up to throw out the packaging from our quick dinner.

'Are you alright Katie?' Sebastian said, coming to stand next to me,he reached out to take my hands in his own, as he looked down at me.

I sheepishly looked away, not wanting to seem like a child at this point in front of him, but I shook my head, 'not really a big fan of storms to be honest' I whispered.

He came to stand closer to me and pulled my body closer to his own, as he wrapped his arms around me, drawing me into his warmth. 'It's ok, don't feel silly about it, I'm not a big fan of them either to be honest' he said, trying to offer some comfort to me. I rested my hand on his upper arm as my head rested on his shoulder, we both stood there for a few moments.

'Why don't you stay here for the night, plenty of space for the both of us anyway' he offered, taking a step back, his hand now resting on my lower arm, as he looked up at him, the height difference between us wasn't that great as I stared up into his gorgeous blue eyes, my arm now had a tingling sensation as his hand rested against it.

I hesitantly nodded, I felt rude intruding on his space, but he had offered and it was probably better to stay with someone as we waited for the hurricane to pass through the area. I looked down at my clothes, I could run to my room I thought quickly, 'let me run across to my room quickly, back in a second' I said, leaving his embrace and turning to exit his room.

I ran across, quickly swiping my key card in the door slot, I threw open my bag, pulling out a pair of sleep shorts and a casual plain black shirt, I ducked into the bathroom brushing my teeth, and wiping away the days make up before running my hands through my hair, trying to control the frizz that had appeared.

I did a double take in the mirror, what am I doing I asked myself, shaking my head, I could just say I had fallen asleep in my own room, but I didn't want to keep him waiting, so I grabbed my phone charger, realising I had left my phone in his room anyway, I made my way back across the hallway, quietly knocking on the door and he quickly opened it inviting me back into his room.

Once I had walked further into the room, I realised Sebastian had fixed the bed for the two of us, the blankets were pushed back and the pillows were neatly stacked against the headrest again, I turned to face him, ' I can take the couch if you want' I offered.

He came to stand closer to me, shaking his head, 'nope the bed's too big for just one person, and I would be rude to have invited you to stay the night and let you sleep on the couch' he reached out to take my phone charger from my hand, quickly plugging it into the wall next to his.

'Almost midnight already' I said, looking at the clock on the bedside table, as I went to jump onto the bed, crossing my legs as I leaned my back against the headrest and Sebastian soon joined me, the 80's music marathon still playing on the TV station, 'still no Tiffany then??' I laughed

'Sadly no, but I think we're alone now anyway' he said, laughing at his own joke, using the singer's hit song title in his response, I laughed alongside him, as I found my hand reach out to touch his leg,he turned to face me.

'Whats up?' I asked.

'Katie, we've known each other for a while' he said, sitting up a little straighter.

I nodded, 'yeah we have' , I responded, we had become quick friends after I had landed my first professional job working on the Apparition, and then again on Ricki and the Flash. I had of course let my feelings grow for him over the years, even though I knew deep down nothing would probably ever happen between us.

He looked down at me, reaching out to take my hand in his own again, 'I don't want to push our friendship, but do you want to grab lunch or something once this is over?!?' his voice trembled slightly as he reached up to run his free hand in his hair, 'the hurricane I mean' he added, hastily.

I could feel the blush growing on my cheeks, as I reached out to touch his arm, 'that sounds perfect' my heart raced slightly as I watched him take a breathe that he had been holding in. I leant in closer to him, feeling his breath on my lips, I leant all the way up, letting my lips meet his soft ones. I felt his grasp tighten on my hand as we both seemed to melt into each other, we wrapped our arms around the other ones and after a few moments we pulled apart.

'That's a definite yes then' he said, smiling down at me, his arms still wrapped around me, pulling me closer so now my head rested on his shoulder.

'Can't wait for tomorrow now' I whispered, our hands now wrapped around each others, and his free hand ran down my arm, as we both started to doze off into a blissful sleep.

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian x reader #Marvel #Bucky #Seb Stan #Bucky Barnes #chubby dumpling #fiction #one shot #story #romance #fluff #Reader #requests open

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96thdayofrage · 3 years ago

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During the 19th century, there were many freed slaves that went on to lead extremely noteworthy lives despite all the adversity they faced in their lifetime, such as the world famous Frederick Douglass, who not only played an important role in fighting for black people’s rights, but also championed women’s rights, particularly playing an important part in the fight for the right for women to vote. Not everyone can be so accomplished as the great Frederick Douglas, but that doesn’t mean they don’t at times do noteworthy things. This brings us to the subject of today- one Jordan Anderson, a former slave who received a letter from his former master requesting he come back to work. Jordan’s reply was a deliciously satirical letter in which, when reading between the lines, he essentially told him in the most polite and eloquent way possible to kiss his derriere. Widely published throughout the United States and parts of Europe, the response made Jordan a media darling overnight.

Given his background as a slave, we unsurprisingly know very little about Jordan’s life prior to being taken from his parents and sold as a boy. What little historians have managed to piece together is that Anderson was born in December of 1825 “somewhere” in Tennessee. In fact, we know so little about Jordan that we’re not even sure if that’s how he actually spelled his first name, since it’s written as “Jourdan” on some documents, such as an 1870 federal census of Dayton Ohio where he lived at the time, and “Jordan” on others.

This said, historians are confident that Jordan was sold into slavery at around age 7 or 8 to one General Paulding Anderson. Anderson then took Jordan and gifted him to his son, Patrick, who went by his middle name, Henry, for most of his life. Exactly what role Jordan served during his formative years isn’t clear, but we do know that at the time it was common for slave owners to give their children similarly aged slaves to function as servants who doubled as playmates; so it’s likely Jordan served such a function for Henry who was around his age.

As he grew into a man, Jordan took a more active role on the Anderson family plantation in Big Spring, Tennessee, apparently becoming one of Henry’s most reliable and able workers. At an unknown point in time in 1848 while working on the plantation, Jordan married a fellow slave named Amanda McGregor with whom he eventually sired 11 children.

When the American Civil War began in 1861, Jordan’s life changed very little and he still continued to dutifully work the plantation for his master with his wife until one fateful day in 1864 when Union Soldiers happened upon the plantation. Upon encountering Jordan, the soldiers granted him, his wife and children their freedom, making the act official with papers from the Provost Marshal General of Nashville, documents Jordan would treasure for the rest of his life.

Upon being granted his freedom, Jordan immediately left the plantation which angered Henry to such an extent that he shot at Jordan as he was leaving, only ceasing to fire when a neighbor grabbed Henry’s pistol from him. Reportedly, Henry vowed to kill Jordan if he ever set foot on his property again.

Following his departure from the plantation, Jordan worked briefly in a Nashville field hospital, becoming close friends with a surgeon called Dr Clarke McDermont. When the Civil War ended in 1865, McDermont helped Jordan and his family move to Dayton, Ohio and put him in contact with his father-in-law, Valentine Winters, an abolitionist who helped him secure work in the town.

For the most part, Jordan’s life in Dayton was uneventful, with his time spent working with a stoic sense of quiet dignity, supporting his family and making sure his many children received a good education, something the illiterate Jordan was never given the opportunity to have. (In fact, it was noted that while still a slave, when an unspecified white girl tried to teach one of his children to read, the girl was beaten for it and forced to stop.)

Jordan’s quiet life was briefly shattered in July of 1865 when out of the blue he received an urgent letter from his former master, Henry. As Jordan couldn’t read, he took the letter to Valentine Winters and asked him to read it to him. As it turns out, following the Civil War, the Anderson Plantation had fallen into complete disrepair, as is wont to happen when your entire workforce leaves pretty much all at once. Deeply in debt, in a desperate attempt to save himself from total financial ruin, Henry reached out to the only man he knew who not only had the skills needed for the harvest, but also potentially the clout to convince some of the other slaves to return for paid work- Jordan Anderson. The letter also promised that Jordan would be paid and be treated as a free man if he returned.

At this point, most people would have screwed up the letter and thrown it in the trash while taking some sordid satisfaction in that karma was doing its job, but Jordan had a better idea. After several days of pondering the letter’s contents, he invited Winters to his home and dictated an exquisite response:

Sir: I got your letter, and was glad to find that you had not forgotten Jourdon, and that you wanted me to come back and live with you again, promising to do better for me than anybody else can. I have often felt uneasy about you. I thought the Yankees would have hung you long before this, for harboring Rebs they found at your house. I suppose they never heard about your going to Colonel Martin’s to kill the Union soldier that was left by his company in their stable. Although you shot at me twice before I left you, I did not want to hear of your being hurt, and am glad you are still living. It would do me good to go back to the dear old home again, and see Miss Mary and Miss Martha and Allen, Esther, Green, and Lee. Give my love to them all, and tell them I hope we will meet in the better world, if not in this. I would have gone back to see you all when I was working in the Nashville Hospital, but one of the neighbors told me that Henry intended to shoot me if he ever got a chance.

I want to know particularly what the good chance is you propose to give me. I am doing tolerably well here. I get twenty-five dollars a month, with victuals and clothing; have a comfortable home for Mandy,—the folks call her Mrs. Anderson,—and the children—Milly, Jane, and Grundy—go to school and are learning well. The teacher says Grundy has a head for a preacher. They go to Sunday school, and Mandy and me attend church regularly. We are kindly treated. Sometimes we overhear others saying, “Them colored people were slaves” down in Tennessee. The children feel hurt when they hear such remarks; but I tell them it was no disgrace in Tennessee to belong to Colonel Anderson. Many darkeys would have been proud, as I used to be, to call you master. Now if you will write and say what wages you will give me, I will be better able to decide whether it would be to my advantage to move back again.

As to my freedom, which you say I can have, there is nothing to be gained on that score, as I got my free papers in 1864 from the Provost-Marshal-General of the Department of Nashville. Mandy says she would be afraid to go back without some proof that you were disposed to treat us justly and kindly; and we have concluded to test your sincerity by asking you to send us our wages for the time we served you. This will make us forget and forgive old scores, and rely on your justice and friendship in the future. I served you faithfully for thirty-two years, and Mandy twenty years. At twenty-five dollars a month for me, and two dollars a week for Mandy, our earnings would amount to eleven thousand six hundred and eighty dollars. (About $178,000 today) Add to this the interest for the time our wages have been kept back, and deduct what you paid for our clothing, and three doctor’s visits to me, and pulling a tooth for Mandy, and the balance will show what we are in justice entitled to. Please send the money by Adams’s Express, in care of V. Winters, Esq.,[267] Dayton, Ohio. If you fail to pay us for faithful labors in the past, we can have little faith in your promises in the future. We trust the good Maker has opened your eyes to the wrongs which you and your fathers have done to me and my fathers, in making us toil for you for generations without recompense. Here I draw my wages every Saturday night; but in Tennessee there was never any pay-day for the negroes any more than for the horses and cows. Surely there will be a day of reckoning for those who defraud the laborer of his hire.

In answering this letter, please state if there would be any safety for my Milly and Jane, who are now grown up, and both good-looking girls. You know how it was with poor Matilda and Catherine. I would rather stay here and starve—and die, if it come to that—than have my girls brought to shame by the violence and wickedness of their young masters. You will also please state if there has been any schools opened for the colored children in your neighborhood. The great desire of my life now is to give my children an education, and have them form virtuous habits.

Say howdy to George Carter, and thank him for taking the pistol from you when you were shooting at me.

From your old servant,

Jourdon Anderson.

At Jordan’s behest, Winters sent the letter to Henry with the simple, informal title, “Letter from a Freedman to His Old Master”. Winters later had the letter published in an edition of the Cincinnati Commercial with the same title. The letter proved to be immensely popular, both because of the sheer level of snark displayed and the eloquence with which Jordan had told off his former “boss”. The letter was later reprinted in papers across the country and even published in parts of Europe, making Henry a world-renowned laughing stock.

Unsurprisingly, Henry never took Jordan up on his offer to pay him 50 years of wages in one go and the letter likely stopped any of his other slaves being tempted back when he wrote to them as well. As a result, the crops that year were never harvested. Henry, deeply in debt, had to sell the plantation for a fraction of its worth and he died penniless and destitute a few years later at age 44.

As for Jordan, he lived and worked in Dayton for the rest of his long life, dying at the age of 81 in 1907.

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