A Series Of Brendon Urie Imagines

You Could Never Disappoint Me

A/N: Key-
Y/N~ Your Name
R/T/U/N~ Random Twitter Usename
Y/T/U/N~ Your Twitter Usename
Trigger Warnings-
Paragraphs 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 30, 31, 35
Seriously, if mentions of cutting triggers you, I don't want you reading this. Please. For your own good. Like, even if you only have a smidge if doubt about how this might affect you, skip this.

@R/T/U/N: How is it that @brendonurie most amazing guy in the world, ended up with @Y/T/U/N, the worst girl in the world? #h8Y/T/U/N.

@R/T/U/N: IKR! @brendonuriecould do wayyy better than @Y/T/U/N. Seriously, I don't know what he sees in her. #h8Y/T/U/N

@R/T/U/N: Neither do I. What a shame the poor groom's bride is a whore. #h8Y/N/U/N

@R/T/U/N: Ha, good one! In all seriousness though... what DOES @brendonurie see in her? #h8Y/T/U/N

@R/T/U/N: I don't know. It really sucks that he's stuck in a marriage with that bitch. I feel sorry for @brendonurie, poor guy. #h8Y/T/U/N

@R/T/U/N: @Y/T/U/N is an ugly, fat, worthless, skank bitch that doesn't deserve @brendonurie. She should do him a favour and kill herself. #h8Y/T/U/N #dieY/T/U/Ndie

@R/T/U/N: That's the best idea I've heard all day! #h8Y/T/U/N # dieY/T/U/Ndie

Tears welled in my eyes as their words of truth struck me. They were right. I didn't deserve Brendon. Brendon deserved so much better than me. I was an ugly, fat, worthless skank bitch, and it was about time I did something about it.

@Y/T/U/N: You guys win. Goodbye, @brendonurie. I love you.

I locked myself in my bathroom and pulled out my razor blades. I had sworn to myself, not to mention Brendon, that I would only use these to shave, but I had finally reached my breaking point. "I'm sorry, Brendon," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. I took the blade to my arm and began cutting. One for being fat. Another for being ugly. Three for being worthless. Four for letting Brendon waste his time on me. Five for being a skank. Six for being a bitch. One on the other arm for being a skank bitch. Seven for ever being born. Eight for being stupid enough to stop. Nine for being stupid enough to let myself continue living.

As I began cutting my legs, I heard the goddamn front door slam. "I'm home, Y/N!" Brendon called out cheerfully.

"Shit," I cursed under my breathe. As quickly and best as I could, I cleaned up the bloody mess I made and flushed the razor blade. Then I wrapped my cuts in gauze and put on long sweatpants and a long sleeved sweater. I dashed downstairs. Brendon was sitting on the sofa channel surfing. I layed down and put my head in his lap. "Hi, Brenny." (A/N: nO mIlK fIc CoMmEnTs)

     "Hey, baby. How are you?" Brendon asked with a kind smile, twirling locks of my hair around his long fingers.

     "Okay, you?"

I mentally scold myself. I never say okay to the question How are you? unless something is wrong. Maybe Bren won't notice...

"You're only okay?" Brendon's eyebrows knitted together in concern. "What's wrong, honey?"

Damn it, he noticed. "Nothing. I'm fine."