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violetnotez · 4 years

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request: It’s the the first time I send a request so I hope I’m doing it right 🥺 can I request a kirishima x reader one-shot with the reader being the traitor and during a fight with the LOV she betrays her classmates and her boyfriend and they found everything out. Possibly angst ofc and you can choose if end it with angst or not, as you prefer. Please I love your blog 🥰

hi anon! So I really loved this idea, and I kinda took it in a different direction, hope thats alright! <3

Kirishima x reader

Genre: Angst, PG

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: none!

Prompt: #3, “you cant tell me you dont feel the same way” from @bnhabookclub Provisional Licensing Exam event

Summary: You have been recruited by Shigaraki to spy on UA as a student. You mistakenly fall in love with Eijirou Kirishima during your time there, dating him for almost 6 months. But now Shigaraki needs you back, and in order to keep Kirishima safe, you have to break his heart

You let out a deep sigh, your chest feeling heavy and full of despair.

You didn't want to do this- you didn't want to hurt him, or let him go.

But to keep him safe- you had to do it.

Shigaraki had revealed the night before that his new plan was complete, and that your spying operation at UA was no longer needed. You had been recruited by Shigaraki at a young age to pose as a student attending UA High, your powerful quirk allowing you to get into the famous Class 1-A. For the last few months you had been pretending to be a hero-in-training, befriending every member in the class in order to win their trust. It was tiring work, trying to study on your own as well as memorize each student's strengths and weaknesses for Shigaraki to use. But by being so friendly with them, you began to realize you actually liked some of the students, making it difficult to hate them as much as you used to. They were so carefree and hopeful about the future, not realizing how cold the real world was like you did. You surprised yourself by loving every moment you were with 1-A, especially with your boyfriend, Eijirou Kirishima. It was hard to stay away from him- he was so bright and charismatic, his smile able to be seen from a mile away. His warmth was so intoxicating, lighting up your life in love and affection. He was the sweetest boy you had ever met, and quite handsome as well, sealing the deal for the massive crush you had grown to have on him. You felt guilty for dating him, knowing that a large portion of your life was hidden from him. It was a frigid lie that had once tried to hold you back from crushing on Kirishima, yet his brilliant warmth melted it away. He unknowingly helped you feel safe, to momentarily believe the world wasn't so bad after all.

Even though you had grown to love the redhead and his bright personality as you spied on Class 1-A, you knew the consequences that one day you would have to leave, yet you followed your heart anyway.

But now the dreaded day had come- Shigaraki needed you to disappear from this new life you had learned to love. He had received all the information he needed from your snooping around, and it was time for you to leave.

Guilt flooded your body, drowning your lungs and heart in regret and misery by the news: you should never have dated poor Kirishima in the first place. You knew it would break his heart once he knew your time together would end, but it had to be done: if Shigaraki ever knew a student from 1-A was romantically in love with you, he wouldn't hesitate to use Kirishima against you as bait to keep you wrapped around his clammy finger. You wouldn't allow Kirishima to get hurt over you, not on your watch.

The only way to ensure you could slip away without worrying about Kirishima was to make him forget about you. That was a close to impossible task, so that idea you scratched out from your mind. You only had two options left: tell him the truth or break his heart.

If you told him the truth, you would have to admit that you were a villain, and most likely would break his heart from the pain away. It would mean revealing your whole life and reason to be a "hero" was a complete and utter lie, most likely destroying the boy in the process. But you already knew Kirishima like the back your hand, and could guess his actions in an instant. He would most likely try to help you, attempt to fix your ways and tell you could leave: but you knew better. You were too involved with the LOV to ever leave and live an everyday life. They would hunt you down if you so much as even admitted to wanting to leave.

You decided the best course of action was to tell Kirishima you were over and down with your relationship- it killed you to even think of speaking such lies, but you didn't want to see him getting hurt. The boy would be heartbroken, yes, but after a while, he'd get over it. His friends were so supportive, so he was sure to have many people consoling him out of his blues. He would forget about you one day and find someone else, someone who wouldn't lie and hurt him. It hurt you to admit it, but this was the best plan you could think of to keep him completely safe.

You were going to miss Kiri and his strong embraces, though, as they were only things that made you feel safe and protected. He was so bright, cheerful, and kind, and it was hard not to resist those warm emotions when your world felt so cold and menacing. But the only way to keep the light inside Kirishima bright was to cut ties with him permanently- you had to break his heart.

Kirishima bounded into the common room cheerfully from his normal workout routine, a warm towel wrapped around his shoulders as he greeted some of his friends. His eyes fell on you, and his heart soared- you looked so pretty sitting there, the setting sun making strands of your hair sparkle like spun gold. His smile grew wider, his perfect teeth sparkling- how was he so lucky to land such an amazing girl like you? His strong arms wrapped around your body from behind the couch, his skin radiating heat as he rubbed his cheek against your hair. "Hey princess, how are you?" he mumbled your pet name into your ear, making your heart churn painfully- this would be the last time he'd hold you like this, the last time he'd speak so softly and sweetly to you. You sighed sadly, meekly wrapping a hand around his skin. 'Hey Kiri," you replied numbly, your voice depressed. You rose from the couch, your legs feeling heavy like lead as you wrapped your arms around your body- why did it feel so cold? Kirishima's smile faded slightly- you didn't sound at all happy. You usually greeted him so adorably, always giving him a big hug or a peck on his cheek. Now you seemed defeated, your hands wrapped around your body as if to protect yourself from something. "Hey, whats going on? You alright- is something bothering you?" he asked sweetly, clueless to why you were feeling this way as he closed the gap between you. He placed his calloused palm on the small of your back, reassuringly, his thumb rubbing against the fabric of your shirt. You swallowed hesitantly, your eyes unable to look into his- it felt too painful to look at him, his innocence to the whole situation making you feel so conflicted and guilty. "We need to talk," you forced yourself to say, his face instantly masked in worry. "Uh-uh sure!" he replied quickly, his speech a little flustered as he tried to seem unbothered, "do you want to talk in my room or yours?" "Let's go in mine," You quickly began walking to your room, Kirishima's footsteps following close behind. He was perplexed and worried- you seemed like something was really bothering you, your voice free of any brightness and joy like it usually was.

You felt like each step to your room made your heart fall heavier and heavier, opening up your room door slowly and letting him enter your room. He flipped on the lights, illuminating the space as you closed the door- even though you'd be long gone by the morning, you felt you at least owed Kirishima some privacy by having the door closed. It made the room feel so much smaller now that Kirishima's aura took over the room. Guilt and shame were eating up at you as you remembered all the hangout sessions and study dates you had in this room, hating how worried and compassionate he looked towards you. "What did you want to talk about? Is it something I did or do? I'm really sorry if I hurt you some way," he was already thinking it was his fault, making you cringe in internal pain- god why was he so sweet? It was you, it was your own personal issues, not him. "No Kiri, no!" you frantically reassured him, your hands going out in front of you in protest. "Its not you, its- its just," "You can tell me anything, you know that right?" he affirmed sweetly, his eyes soft with concern. You nodded your head numbly, your mouth feeling dry like sandpaper. Kirishima walked close to your body, placing his palms around your elbows, your arms full of tension as he tried to melt it away with his touch. He was looking down at you with so much worry, so much adoration and love, it made your stomach turn painfully. Why did this have to be so hard-it was so agonizing, like pulling off a bandage slowly and painfully. You just needed to get it done, to rip off the metaphorical bandage as quickly as possible- the longer you wait, the longer the stinging and the pain will be for the both of you. "Then tell me whats wrong," he instructed softly, still utterly oblivious to the whole situation. You swallowed thickly, your voice and throat feeling hoarse and tight. It was now or never. "Kiri, I- we need to break up."

Kirishima froze, his heart stopping in his chest. He didn't hear you correctly, right? Maybe he heard you wrong? There was no way you wanted to break up with him, no way at all- "I-Im sorry, I just-I just don't love you," You hated how these words were coming out of your mouth, these lies that were obviously ripping you and Kirishima apart from the inside. You watched his expression turn from worry to agony, his eyes wide with shock. It hurt too much to see him look so frozen, as if your words had caused him to shut down. His hands were still on your body, the air changing so suddenly- it was stuffy, stale, and uncomfortable. And it was your fault. You shimmied out of his embrace, turning around so you wouldn't be forced to face him. The guilt was eating at you- you couldn't bear to look at him look so defeated when you knew you had caused it. Your abrupt movement seemed to wake him up out of his heartbroken daze, his hands instantly grasping for you, spinning you around quickly. You breathed hitched painfully in your throat- you had never seen him look so defeated, so desperate. His palms were wrapped around your shoulders tightly, almost painfully, making it practically impossible to escape his hold on you. "y/n, please, please just tell me what's wrong," his voice was wavering, his eyes already gleaming with tears, "I-I know this isn't you, if I did something, y/n, I'll fix it, I promise! I can't lose you, please, please dont do this-" he was practically begging "Kiri, I-I, I cant," your voice was becoming weaker from the stress of trying to hold back a sob, "I-I never loved you." "Y/n, no, I cant accept that," tears were gliding against his cheeks, his voice full of passion, "you cant tell me you dont feel the same way." "I-I love you so, so much, you have no idea," he looked down at you with his wide, puppy-like eyes, begging you to change your mind with his words. "Your all I think about- when I wake up, when I fall asleep, everything I see reminds me of you. You make me so happy, the way you smile, your laugh, your hugs- I-I cant live without those things y/n. I cant live without you. When I asked you out that day, I was so nervous- I had been planning for weeks before, and when you agreed to go out, you made me the happiest man alive." Tears were falling down your cheeks now, your heart screaming in agony. You wanted to tell him that's how you felt as well- Kirishima was your whole entire life, enveloping your every waking moment in his wonderfully bright aura. He was your light, your sun, your anchor in the crazy mess of the galaxy of your life. There was no love and no warmth until Kirishima came around. But now you needed to keep him safe- you had to sacrifice your happiness with each other in order to keep him out of harm's way. "Kiri, I only dated you because I felt pity," you lied straight through your teeth, wishing you could melt into the wall seeing Kirishima's face break. "I was too afraid to say no," His heart couldn't take anymore clearly, his face conflicted with so many emotions you couldn't differentiate between any of them. You felt like this was the most ultimate betrayal to the boy, making him think his love he had with you was all a lie. It wasn't, and you wished you could just tell him the truth, but you knew that would be worse. He'd never allow you to leave- you had to, to protect yourself and him. You put yourself in a crappy situation- you wouldn't drag him along with you. "So-it-it was all fake?" He asked, his voice quiet and terrified. He didn't want to hear the answer he knew would spill out of your mouth. "Yes," The room was deadly quiet, Kirishima completely dumb founded-all the times you hugged him, made him feel accepted in your life, laughed at his jokes, kissed him, made him smile, made him happy-was all a lie? A cruel joke in order to spare his feelings? He felt like such an idiot-he should have known this was too good to be true. He felt deep down he wasn't good enough for you, strong enough, smart enough, manly enough. This was just confirming that fear by 10 fold. You were sniffling, watching the love you had for the boy only grow out of misery, while his love for you was diminishing. "Y-n, I-"he was so confused, his hands running through his hair in anguish. "Why?!? Why did you-you were my first everything! You are everything to me! I can't believe you, there's gotta be another reason-I love you, you love me!" You were so quiet, your shoulders shaking in misery and guilt as tear after salty tear fell against your cheek. Your silence was painful, confirming what he feared with each passing second, your averted eyes hiding the actual truth "You love me, right?" You were too afraid to speak, knowing what you had to say to break him from you-but you couldn't. The lie of saying you didn't love him was eating up your insides, clogging your lungs and your throat to the point you felt you couldn't speak. You couldn't tell him you didn't love him-it was too painful. You already lied to him enough. "I'm sorry," you whispered, looking at him with reddened eyes. What he thought you were sorry for was your lack of care for him, the lies you had told him for the past 6 months, and it burnt his insides in a gut wrenching flame, the fire licking and eating his insides in agony. He had to leave-he couldn't take this anymore, his body walking right past you and opening the door quickly to get fresh air. You were now sobbing, broken gasps crying out his name as he shut the door behind you, closing his heart off from ever accepting you again. You were sorry that you were in love with him, and by being in love with him, you had broken him.

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gimmesumsuga · 6 years

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Sweeter than Sweet (56)

Pairings: Jimin x reader, Yoongi x reader, Jimin x Yoongi, Namjoon x reader, Taehyung x reader + others as the story progresses

Warnings: Nil of note

Word count: 3.8K

Previous / Next

“You know I’m still not sure how they managed to pull that back.”

There was not a single moment in the mundane little life you’d led prior to Jimin arriving into it in which you’d ever predicted that one day, somewhere in the not so distant future, you might stroll hand-in-hand with a member of the undead, discussing the finer points of basketball. But, improbable as it may have seemed, here you are. It’s comfortable and it’s wonderful, and honestly, there’s nothing on earth you’d be willing to trade for the feel of Yoongi’s cold fingers threaded between yours. You wouldn’t change a thing.

“I was starting to question your judgement after that mess of a first half.” Yoongi’s laughter that follows your gentle ribbing is so carefree that it warms your heart to hear it, the smile on his face completely infectious.

“Oh ye of little faith,” he grins, tightening his grip just enough to squeeze and rub your knuckles together playfully, laughing again when you yelp and pout at how uncomfortable it feels. He kisses them, one after another, in sweet apology. “Would you like to go again?”

“Definitely,” you nod, knocking shoulders with Yoongi when you’re forced to side-step to in order to avoid a woman coming briskly toward you along the pavement. “Sports aren’t really my thing, but the fans were so enthusiastic I couldn’t help getting all caught up.”

“I noticed.” Glancing to the side you see the corner of Yoongi’s mouth curled up into an amused smirk, his eyes fixed straight ahead, and you know exactly what it is he’s alluding to.

“Yeah, well, I stand by what I said,” you grumble. That referee was blind; you and two hundred other angry fans can’t have been wrong.

“ Shouted , you mean,” Yoongi corrects, clutching his side exaggeratedly after you jab your elbow into it, “I didn’t buy you that popcorn just for you to throw it.”

“Oh shut up,” you laugh, and this time when you nudge your shoulder into his it’s purely in affection. Ok, so maybe you did get a little carried away, and sure, maybe you might have shouted a couple more expletives than you would do in your normal, everyday life, but what else did he expect? You’re an impressionable young woman, easily led astray be the will of an angry mob… apparently.

“I like it when you’re feisty.” Yoongi wrinkles his nose at you, smiling broadly, and it reminds you of the way one might regard some sort of adorable, miniature dog as it tries to take on one more than twice its size. You roll your eyes, attempting to appear far more annoyed that you really are and failing miserably right from the off.

The city streets are fairly crowded this evening; more so than usual for this time. It’s too early for the club goers but sports fans and pre-emptive Christmas shoppers seem to be making up for their absence, and it’s surprising how well Yoongi appears to be coping with it all. It’s either that he’s gotten much better at hiding his anxiety, or else getting him out of the house has had some kind of miraculously positive effect in only a very short space of time. You know it’d be a mistake to start thinking the issue has somehow magically been resolved, though, and you don’t want to misinterpret today’s success as something more than what might just be a ‘good day’.

You can’t remember the last time you had a date went this well, actually - excluding Jimin’s birthday. Already being so familiar and comfortable around each other definitely helps; there’s no pressure to make awkward conversation, no-

“Oh shit.” Yoongi’s yanked backwards when you come to a complete standstill, stumbling for a second before returning to your side with a concerned frown when he notes how pale you’ve suddenly become.

“ Gongjunim , what’s wrong?” he asks softly, moving as though to cup your cheek but missing when you suddenly spin him around by his jacket and place yourself directly behind him. “What’re you doing?” Yoongi cranes his neck to try and look back at you, but you’re too busy ducking your head down and trying to melt into the pavement to pay much attention.

“That’s my ex,” you hiss, cursing Yoongi’s petite, slender frame. Why can’t his shoulders be as broad as Jin’s? You’d have no trouble hiding, then. You feel Yoongi tense slightly under your palms, his head suddenly whipping forward again.

“Where?” You take a cautious peek around his side, cringing both internally and externally. God, you hope he doesn’t see you. It’s been years, but you know if he spots you Simon will have absolutely no qualms whatsoever in coming over and informing you about all the amazing stuff he’s got going on. You know this for a fact, because it’s exactly what happened the last time you were unfortunate enough to bump into him, and just the memory of his simpering, faux sympathetic tone when you’d told him that yes, you were single, and yes, you were unemployed, makes you want to turn tail to run and hide.

“Across the street, 2’o’clock.” Yoongi’s head swivels from side to side and you huff in frustration, resting your face between his shoulder blades as you continue to hide. “The douchebag with the man-bun wearing the t-shirt that’s about a million times too tight.” Why did you ever think it was a good idea to go out with him?

“Ew,” Yoongi sneers, baby face crumpling in disdain.

“Yeah,” you sigh, clutching onto his jacket as you sag against his back, seeking comfort, “That about sums it up.”

“Want me to kill him?” There’s absolutely no humour in Yoongi’s tone, his expression deadpan serious when you glance upward. “I am kinda peckish.” The corner of Yoongi’s mouth twitches slightly, giving him away, and you're actually a little relieved to know it’s merely a joke. Your new vampire family is so fiercely protective of you that you wouldn’t put it past them going that far if they deemed it necessary.

“It’s tempting, but probably not the best idea.” You wind your arms around Yoongi’s waist, giving him a squeeze to let him know you’re nevertheless grateful for the offer. “Is he gone yet?” He says nothing for a moment or two, and during that time you notice a prepubescent boy with his mother giving you a very questionable look as they pass by. What, has he never seen a grown woman cower before?

“He’s gone,” Yoongi confirms, turning round to face you with concern in his eyes. “You ok?”

“Better now,” you smile weakly.

Although you’re relieved, you feel a little stupid for acting that way now Simon has moved on. It’s a part of you that you thought you’d left behind these last few months; a girl that’s meek and mild, crippled by her own insecurity. That’s not you anymore, not when you’re with Yoongi, not when you’re with Jimin, not when you’re with anyone of the men you’ve come to care so deeply about. Or so you’d thought, anyway.

“C’mon,” he says gently, taking your hand, “You look like you need that drink.”

Walking silently side by side, it doesn’t take long to reach the bar you’d been heading towards before the two of you were so unfortunately waylaid. Yoongi’s mercifully respectful of your quiet introspection, managing to resist the urge to question you further until you’re sat opposite each other in a comfortable booth, alcohol in hand.

You’ve always liked this place. It’s cosy without feeling claustrophobic, filled with well-worn fabric chairs and couches framing ancient looking tables. You’ve always thought it was a bit devil may care, actually, keeping soft furnishings in an environment so rife with the risk of splashes and spills. Still, every time you’ve visited it’s always seemed clean and the staff so friendly and warm that it gives the place a homely, family feel.

By far your favourite thing, though, is the modestly elevated staging area that takes up almost a quarter of the entire bar. They hold open mic nights here almost every night of the week, and even though the place is by no means at full capacity there’s already a guy up there strumming his acoustic guitar, singing - as so many of them seem to do - with his eyes tightly closed. He’s not half bad, actually, especially given the fact that he’s singing what sounds like his own original material.

“So, wanna tell me what the story was with ‘Mr Cool’ back there?” Yoongi asks, hands clasped around a coffee that you know he won’t actually drink.

“‘Mr Cool?’” you snort from around the rim of your glass, lifting one eyebrow. Yoongi’s mouth morphs into a crooked smile as he chuckles, glancing over at the guitarist. He’s just hit a rather bum note, and you know it’s probably bothering Yoongi more than he lets on.

“I was going to call him a hipster fuck, but that wouldn’t be very polite.” You very nearly choke on your drink, and seeing you splutter only serves to heighten Yoongi’s amusement. How is it he can have you laughing again so soon when only moments before you’d felt so low?

“There’s not much to tell, to be honest,” you say a little dismissively, touching your hand to your chin to make sure you didn’t just splatter rum and coke all over yourself. Yoongi just looks back at you silently, his face as still and beautiful as a porcelain doll as he waits for you to expand. “Simon was alright, for the most part. Liked to play the martyr, though. Holy shit, did he enjoy that.” You take a large gulp of your drink, glancing down at the graffiti scrawled across the table as you try to push back the most unpleasant memories of your time together.

“Who broke it off?” he asks inquisitively, finally getting round to taking off his jacket and scarf. With no internal thermostat, it’s all too easy for Yoongi to forget to appropriately adjust his layers in order to avoid calling any unwanted attention to himself. He passes the knitwear over to join the pile at your side where your own scarf and earmuffs lay, your fingers brushing along the way.

“He did. We were only dating for a few months, but then he started getting... impatient.” You shift in your seat, peering down into the glass which you tap your fingernails on to avoid Yoongi’s penetrating gaze.

“Impatient for what?” You sigh, fidgeting once more. Why does this feel so awkward to talk about? Yoongi already knows that you were a virgin before you met Jimin.

“He was... pressuring me to do things I wasn’t ready for.” You look up only to see Yoongi’s eyes narrowing, your fingertips now wet with the condensation from your glass, and although he’s not yet saying anything, the sudden intensity of his gaze gives away the anger festering inside. “I wanted to wait… and he didn’t. So he dumped me.” That’s all there is to say about it really; it was never some big dramatic saga, no great romance.

“Fucking asshole,” Yoongi mumbles darkly, peering down into his coffee.

“Yeah, well...” Once again you shrug, unwilling to give it any more thought or time than you already have. Simon wasted too much of it to begin with. “I’m kind of glad he did, in the end. I think if he’d have just kept on and on… I probably would’ve just ended up caving and doing it anyway.” The idea clearly displeases Yoongi, a scowl lowering his eyebrows even further.

“You’re worth so much more than that.” The strength of his conviction raises the volume of Yoongi’s voice as he speaks, rumbling into your ears at an irresistibly low timbre. “If you didn’t know it then, then I certainly hope you do now.” Your laughter starts before you even realise it’s coming; the sudden, gleeful smile that’s suddenly stretched across your face taking Yoongi completely by surprise.

“Trust me, moving in with you guys have done my confidence the world of good,” you laugh, meaning every word. Being desired by not one, not two, but a whole group of gorgeous, enigmatic vampires is most definitely an ego boost. You’re still not sure how the hell it’s happened, actually, but you’re not about to go looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Yoongi slender lips curve into a small, contented smile, his hand reaching out for yours across the table. It’s strange, how unfamiliar the warmth of his skin is having been warmed by the coffee that sits untouched on the table.

“Glad to hear it.”

The conversation between the two of you continues that way for a while; a pleasant back and forth that has you in fits of giggles more times than you can count. Yoongi’s dry sense of humour never fails to amuse - his snarky comments funnier by far than one young man’s poor attempt at stand-up comedy - and before you know it you’re glancing down at your watch and realising that almost two hours have passed you by. It’s true what they say - time really does fly when you’re having fun.

The bar is busier now, full of music and chatter, and your second glass of rum and coke - one of the only alcoholic drinks you actually profess to like - has you feeling enjoyably warm and relaxed as you lean against Yoongi’s side. He’d quickly come to the conclusion that he’d prefer to sit next to you rather than opposite you, and ever since he switched sides his hand has either been on your knee or locked with yours beneath the table, seemingly incapable of leaving you be. Not that you mind.

“ Oppa, why is that woman murdering that piano?” you ask, your head rested atop of his shoulder, twisting your head to look up into his eyes. You may be over-egging how tipsy you feel, truth be told, because you can tell that Yoongi’s enjoying seeing you this way. He smiles indulgently down at you, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I don’t know, princess.” The red-headed woman currently butchering Beethoven hits another series of duff notes and both of you cringe as one.

“She needs some of your lessons.” One of his eyebrows rises, smile morphing into a smirk in the blink of an eye. “Not like that, ” you shriek, slapping him playfully on the chest and pouting as he laughs. Yoongi leans in, still managing to chuckle even passed the pursed lips he kisses you with. You nip his bottom lip in revenge, throwing him a risqué wink as he pulls back, dark eyes gleaming. You’re not immune to it, insides fluttering as he kisses you once more. It’s deeper this time, hungrier, and when it ends it takes you a moment or two to actually be able to think straight. “I’m sure we could show her a thing or two.”

“I’m sure we could,” Yoongi replies huskily, giving your hand a squeeze and reinforcing the impression that his mind is, in fact, completely in the gutter. There’s a modest round of applause when her turn comes to an end, the stage left empty once she steps down, beaming with pride.

“Why don’t we?” you suddenly say, your eyes wide with enthusiasm, and it’s difficult to keep laughter at bay when you see a look of total confusion pass over Yoongi’s features. “No-one’s going up there. We could take a turn, show them what real music sounds like.” Yoongi looks around the bar, likely taking note of how much busier it’s become, and when he turns back to you he suddenly looks nervous, wracked with self-doubt.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he says quietly, avoiding your eyes, “I’ve never played in front of anyone before.”

“You’ve played in front of me.” Yoongi glances at you sceptically.

“You know what I mean.” You fall silent for a minute or two, eyeing Yoongi’s handsome side profile as your mind turns. You don’t want to push him into something he’s not comfortable with, not by any means, but you can’t help but feeling like it might do Yoongi some good to put himself out there - if only he were willing to take the risk.

“I thought you wanted people to hear your music?” you persist gently, squeezing his hand in yours, “Don’t you think this is the perfect opportunity?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d guess that you were being ignored, but you can tell by the restlessness of Yoongi’s eyes that’s he’s listening to every word you say. “And I’d be right there with you. We can do it together.” Once again he remains silent, but silence is better than refusal, you figure, so instead of pushing further you just sit back and give him time; time to consider if it’s a feat of bravery he’s capable of taking.

When he softly sighs, anxiously rubbing the side of his neck, you know he’s made up his mind.

“Why not?” Yoongi shrugs, clearly trying to play nonchalant. There’s a quiet determination gleaming in his eyes despite the feeble nature of his smile, and when you spring up from the booth with a squeak of excitement Yoongi plays the willing victim and lets himself be led towards the bar hand in hand.

The owner is quick to nod when you ask if you can take the stage, and before you know it you and Yoongi are sat side by side at the old oak piano, hands poised and ready to play. There’s very little discussion needed to decide what piece it should be; when you suggest your duet Yoongi is quick to nod, reminding you quietly to mind the A flats that so often make you stumble.

“I’m really nervous,” Yoongi suddenly admits, his voice merely a whisper. His hands are trembling where they rest on the keys, his back and shoulders slumped like he’s trying to disappear. You’re nervous too - sickeningly so, actually - yet you’re so concerned for Yoongi that you barely have a chance to acknowledge it.

“Don’t be,” you whisper back, extending your pinky finger to brush against his, “Barely anyone’s even looking. Pretend it’s just you and me.” Yoongi glances around to see if what you say is true, chewing nervously on the inside of his mouth. Honestly, most of the patrons are in their own little worlds; talking, drinking, laughing, paying very little attention to whoever is on stage. Live performances aren’t exactly a rarity here, so you know it’ll take something special to make them sit up and listen, otherwise it’ll just pass them by like background noise.

For a second you think Yoongi’s going to back out entirely, but then he shuts his eyes, takes one long, deep breath, and starts to play. Your face splits into a broad smile, your chest swelling with pride, and you get so caught up in watching him play that you almost miss your cue to start. You don’t, though, knowing you’d only be letting him down if you dared falter. The moment your fingers find the keys yours and Yoongi’s parts fall almost perfectly in sync, complimenting each other in a gorgeous harmony that’s rich in its complexity.

Yoongi’s hands had ceased their shaking after the very first note he’d braved to play, and now, as you risk a glance over at his face, you’re overjoyed by the way his mouth is curved into the most beautifully serene smile. He’s still got his eyes closed, lost far away in his own little world, surrounded by the music loves and knows so well and safely hidden from the many admiring stares that are now turning your way. Yoongi may not be aware of it, but the bar has suddenly fallen oddly silent and still, the patrons sat in rapt attention listening to the two of you play. You’re not naive; you know it’s Yoongi that’s carrying you through. He plays with a natural grace and finesse that no amount of practice will ever achieve, and the audience is enraptured by it, and so are you.

The piece comes to an end far too quickly. Yoongi draws it to a close as beautifully as it began, the seeds of applause blooming long before the final note dies out, and it’s so enthusiastic, so sincere, that it almost moves you to tears to hear it. It’s not for you - and that’s ok, it was never meant to be - it’s for him, and you’re so proud, so happy, so hopelessly, irrevocably in love, that you feel like you could burst with joy at any given moment.

Your partner, however, seems shaken to the core once he opens his eyes and suddenly realises he’s at the centre of everybody’s attention. His pupils dart nervously this way and that, palms rubbing restlessly against his thighs, and before you get chance to utter even a single word of praise Yoongi’s on his feet and ready to flee, entirely overwhelmed, and in the blink of an eye he’s gone. As you hurry to follow after him, hastily grabbing your things on the way out, you can see some of the bar patrons blinking and frowning as they try to make sense of what just happened. After all, Yoongi more or less just vanished in front of their eyes.

Your breath flows like smoke from between your lips as you call Yoongi’s name, stepping outside into the cold night air. You wrap your scarf around your neck as you look this way and that, the beginnings of panic making your stomach twist nervously inside. He has to be here somewhere nearby. Yoongi wouldn’t have just upped and left… he’s too protective of you for that, no matter how worked up he may be.

“Yoongi?” There’s a sound to your right, and even though it’s Yoongi’s familiar form that steps out of the shadows your heart still instinctively accelerates as a ‘just in case’. The fright you’d seen on his face less than a minute earlier has melted away, masked by something else you can’t quite identify. “Yoongi, are you ok?” you ask softly, approaching the wall where he’s lent, his eyes fixed on yours.

As soon as you’re within reach Yoongi grabs a hold of you, wrenching your body into his with a satisfying thud. His hands are in your hair, his tongue behind your teeth, and the wall that was in front is now suddenly behind, your back pressed against it and his chest flush with yours.

“Thank you.” His words disappear into the cavern of your mouth, swallowed up by your passion. “Thank you.”

#sweeter than sweet #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts vampire!au #yoongi x reader #yoongi/reader #suga x reader #jimin x reader #jimin/reader #yoongi fluff

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marcusssanderson · 5 years

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Hidden Keys to Letting Go of Resentment and Rediscover Life’s Beauty

Discover the principles of letting go of resentment so you can enjoy the beauty of life.

I love to sing. As it is for every singer, there are some notes that are out of my range. When I reach my highest note and push hard to go one or two notes higher, I can’t do it.

One day, a friend noticed that when I tried to hit the higher notes, I was not breathing through my diaphragm. I immediately changed my breathing and voila! My range expanded by three notes. It was easy.

Maturing psychologically— letting go of resentment so as to appreciate life’s beauty and the blessings in our lives—is often attempted in a similar, misguided manner. We strain to talk ourselves out of a negative emotion, such as anger, while nonetheless still feeling that emotion strongly.

We use anger-reducing strategies that work only temporarily, such as counting to 10 before we speak, or convincing ourselves that the issue is NOT worth getting upset about. We distract ourselves with more pleasant things. Or we strike back, hoping to reduce our resentment by settling a score.

All strategies that focus only on your anger will be a temporary fix and eventually fail. That’s because most people try to “fight” their anger or “push it to one side”, creating unnecessary tension. Besides, anger is not the source of your problem.

The REAL problem is that you are living by a set of principles that are obstacles to true growth – and don’t realize it. Embrace the following principles and your anger will subside more naturally without having to be forced out.

You will be able to sing the higher notes—that is, experience more joy, gratitude, trust, patience, love, and inner peace—naturally, and without straining.

6 Principles To Letting Go of Resentment

Principle #1: Growth that is transformational is an outgrowth of experiencing great love or great suffering.

In other words, the hurts that gave rise to your anger are essential factors in your personal growth. Hurt and pain create suffering. But without suffering, we don’t fully appreciate the good in our lives. We don’t have a need to integrate the highest ideals of forgiveness, tolerance, and compassion.

We are like moths that must experience the flame. The moth symbolizes our soul seeking spiritual truths, but having to go through tribulation first.

Principle #2: Anger and resentment stems from unresolved sadness and loss.

What are the losses that lead to anger? Basically, there are four categories:

loss of feeling loved (rejection);

loss of self-esteem (feeling incompetent or unattractive);

loss of control (not having enough influence, being treated unfairly); and

loss of safety and security

When you feel a loss in any of those areas, it creates hurt or sadness. Many times, we do not notice the sadness and go immediately to anger. The goal is to stay with the sadness—it is a clean emotion—and endeavor to strengthen areas where you feel weakened.

Principle #3: To go from anger and fear to the higher states of beauty, peace, and trust, we must cross a bridge.

That bridge is called “emotional acceptance.” Too often, we do NOT accept the reality of what occurred – we resist it. “This should not have happened!” we say. Or we cry “What would make a person DO that?” Such questions are really a form of avoidance.

We do NOT wish to accept the reality of what happened. Acceptance is not passivity or a belief that what happened was “acceptable” in a moral sense. Acceptance means “It is.” Resisting emotional acceptance leads to more internal pain, such as resentment. This is why letting go of resentment is difficult for most of us.

Principle #4: Acceptance plus trust leads to peace. Peace helps us see beauty that is already there.

I’m not saying you should trust that all will work out the way you wish. I’m not saying to trust that all goodwill come your way.

Trust involves a willingness to embrace uncertainty, to accept mystery. When you insist on getting to the bottom of WHY things happen (the “cosmic” why, not the scientific why), when you want an answer and you want it now, you set yourself up to a never-ending internal debate that will lead to fear or frustration.

But if you open yourself to mystery, if you consider that perhaps you are NOT the sole author of your life, that co-authors exist; if you consider that you are in this world to serve many purposes and not all of your reasons-for-being have been achieved, you can tolerate NOT knowing.

Acceptance plus trust allows you to peacefully co-exist with not-knowing. This helps in letting go of resentment and the belief that events MUST happen the way we want them to, or that some things should not happen – when in fact, they did.

Principle #5: Do not try to “beat up” negative thoughts with positive thoughts.

Allow the positive and negative thoughts to co-exist without debate. Then live your life in between them. Positive thinking does not always work when hurts or losses are profound.

That is because any positive thought (i.e. “I will find a way to cope after my spouse died.”) can always be followed by a negative thought (“But I’m furious at God for allowing it to happen!”), and the resulting inner debate depletes you (“I shouldn’t be angry at God…But I AM! But I shouldn’t…”). Instead, acknowledge the parts of you that thinks and feels one way and another.

Accept those differences without debate and move forward with your life. Eventually, the thoughts that don’t serve you will slip away on their own. But if you attempt to force them out, they remain.

Principle #6: There is a hidden sadness to all that is beautiful, and a hidden beauty to all that is sad.

We love our family and friends. But eventually, someone dies or moves away. We are happy at our child’s graduation or wedding, but shed a tear as well.

We may stand in awe on a beach gazing at the ocean, but eventually, we have to leave and go to someplace uninspiring. Many noble causes that have helped thousands of people began as a result of someone suffering a loss or injustice.

As you embrace these principles of letting go of resentment, you will discover that anger—while normal—sheds itself naturally, like a tree shedding its leaves in autumn, without you having to force it.

As your resentment subsides, the beauty of life—which is ever-present and ever-visible—is revealed to you anew.

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