𝐅𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

☁️☁️☁️

Author note: if you're and Underfell fan are even a fellcest shiper like me, you already know that on wattpad, aren't very many good one-shot that are completed. But me being me, I always try to finish, so hopefully this works out well, and I can finish this one-shot.

2477 Words

Warnig this one-shot may contain violence, swearing, addiction, suicide thought an actions, sexual thoughts.

❝ Pain without love. Pain I can't get enough. Pain I like it rough. Cause I'd rather feel pain that nothing at all.
Cuz I'm a fuck up❞

                         ──────Teddy Bear

I'm fucked up bad

In so many ways, that it literally fucking hurts to even look at myself sometimes. It doesn't matter how many steps forward I take, -one action, one thought, one word is enough to completely mutilate the intranet webs of hard labour.

Why is it that when thing just seem too fucking good to be true I feel my body or rather my bones tense like it's breathing

Waiting. . .

And just as I anticipate, the chaos unfolds my soul releases it's breath during the familiarity of my destruction. Yes, I have blame others for my mistakes. Hell sometimes they are a contributing factor but that doesn't change the fact that I'm a fuck up that fucked it up.

In the dark agony of self loathing, the conversation replays in my head. Over and over and over. Each time a more painful stab as I long to just go back in time and change each action, each thought and each word in order for my newly formed web to be still intact.

I never learn do I?

Boss hates that mindset of mine, but he tells me to write it down every time I think it. That's why he created the 'fucked up' jar.

"Just get some little paper, write I'm fucked up on it every time it crosses your mind, and drop into the jar," he'd stated as if it was the simplest fucking thing in the world to do.

I mean, it was -it is- but that doesn't stop
me from thinking it was damn stupid even for me.

I did it anyway, thought. Boss has this way of making me do things even when I don't want to, and I don't even fucking know how. All it took was him saying.

"Fucking lazy dog stop lazing around and do something."In the slightly exasperated slightly desperate voice he had whatever he pleaded with me, and I was grumbling a whatever, fine Boss.

We're almost on our way to our fourth jar now. I almost write those little I'm fucked up paper subconsciously now, wherever I am, wherever I think it, and just bunch of them up in my pocket until I get home.

There's always at least one every day.

I hate making Boss angry whenever he sees them, but he's the one who fucking told me to do it. And he's the one who made it a goddamn habit.

He should know that I can't change; that I may never change. Even if he doesn't know, one day he'll fucking realize and one day he'll get fed up and leave me.