my heart was ripped from my chest

Killing Me

a/n: this is my first writing piece on this account and it is based on the song Killing Me by Jacob Whitesides.I listened to it for the first time today and I instantly fell in love and also got this idea as well. Hope you like it. 

WARNINGS: a bit of fighting/angst, swearing


I hate all the fussing and fighting
‘Til we take it to the room and ignite
It’s killing me, killing me, get it? ya killing me
Killing me, killing me, this love’s the end of me
It’s toxic all day, it’s a warfare
Surrendering at night just to go there
Killing me, killing me, get it? ya killing me
Killing me, killing me, this love’s the end of me


He drove me insane. One second I thought I loved him and then the next I felt like my heart was physically being ripped from my chest. Loving him was a sin, a crime, something that shouldn’t be this complicated. It was toxic for both of us, we knew that, but somehow by the end of the fighting, we were wrapped in each other’s arms while breathing heavily and wondering where we went wrong. 

He drove me crazy. I thought he loved me the way I did. But whenever I let him back in we are back to square one. He’s messing around with other girl’s and leaving me emotionless on the bathroom floor, a gaping hole in the center of my chest. 

But I did love him. That’s the thing. He meant the most to me in this crazy fucked up world. How could the person who you love the most also be the person you wished to walk away? 

He cared, that’s the sad part, he cared more than anyone else. He never intentionally started the yelling, it was always me - yelling at him without reason because I was too scared to say my real feelings. And because of that, I watched him prance around with his latest conquests, people he meets through his hectic lifestyle. 

I leaned my back against the wall of the bathroom, tears streaming down my face. My mascara was probably smudged all the way down to my chin. My eyes remained glued to the picture of him and some random girl in a club. If only I could tell him how I really felt then he wouldn’t just see me as one of his frequent hookups. 

I hated the fighting so why was I always the one to light the match?

A light tapping knock appeared at the front door of my apartment. I knew it was him. He always came over after big events or parties, usually to unwind or because taking someone home was too obvious to the paparazzi so he came here for a release. I stood quickly, tucking my phone into the back pocket of my jeans and walked over to the mirror. Just as I thought, my mascara had traveled down from my eyes to my chin. I tried to wipe away as much as possible before rushing out of the room and towards the door. 

On the other side of the door, he’d be there, dressed in his suit from this after party and his breath would be slightly reeking of vodka. I sucked in a deep breath then swung the door open, revealing a well dressed Shawn. His white shirt under his classic black blazer was unbuttoned and his tie was gone. 

“Why are you here?” I asked cautiously, trying to avoid eye contact, hoping that he wouldn’t see my bloodshot eyes and smudged makeup. 

“Hey,” he cooed softly. “What’s wrong?” 

There it is. He cared too much for me yet we fought, we screamed, and we always made up under the covers without actual words or feelings. I couldn’t take it anymore. It was killing me. 

“Nothing. You should go home, you must be tired from the event.” I struggle to say, finally letting my eyes wander up to his to see his eyes soften at the look of my tear-stained face. 

“Well, I’m not going to leave now. You’re upset about something and I want to make sure you’re okay.” He said sweetly. 

I wasn’t able to protest before he pushed the door open wider and strolled past me. My breath huffed out of my chest while I closed the door. This is what I was afraid of happening, I didn’t want him to tempt me because my emotions were too wild for him to be in front of me. I knew that his kind words and touches were going to make me cave, and tonight I just wanted him to get out of my life. It was killing me. 

I slowly walked into the living room where he was standing. His eyes were looking around the room like he was searching for some sort of clue as to why I looked like a mess. He spotted my coffee table where I had multiple bottles of half drank water, a bag of chips, and an opened bag of gummies. 

“Really, Shawn, I think you should go home,” I repeated and crossed my arms over my chest. 

“Y/N,” he breathed out, his eyes still looking at the mess of my living room. Besides the food, there were blankets tossed over the couch without a care in the world. I was slightly embarrassed because he’s never seen this side of me before, the emotional side. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” I snapped. “I rather be alone right now, okay? Go find someone else to mess around with tonight because it won’t be me.”

“Y/N” He repeated, this time sounding shocked. 

“No, don’t act surprised. I am done with this, can’t you see it’s hurting me? We only care about each other when we are under the sheets.” 

“That’s not true,” Shawn said. “And you know it.” 

“If it isn’t true then why did you come over tonight, Shawn? I mean we haven’t talked all day, no texts or calls. But the second night time comes around you want a simple fuck. I’m not going to be that person for you anymore. It’s killing me.” I yelled, so hard that my chest ached as the last words left my lips. 

Shawn took a few steps towards me but I took a step backward. The thing that hurt the most was the look on his face. I loved him more than I’ve ever loved somebody and seeing his face drop with my words was like a knife in the chest. 

“It’s not just a simple fuck, Y/N.” He slowly says, his eyes staying locked on mine. 

“Then what the fuck is it?” I shouted, my arms uncrossing and flopping at my sides angrily. 

Shawn gulped and lowered his gaze to the ground. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he began. “At first we were just hooking up, messing around when no one was looking and it was fun. I don’t know what happened but after the few weeks, you never left my mind. I tried to erase you with all the other hookups and maybe I was trying to drive you away because I didn’t have the power to leave myself. But the point is that you’ve never left my mind and I can’t stop thinking about your lips and your laugh. It’s making me insane, I’m sure of it.” 

I stood there, frozen in place. He’s never poured that much emotion into his words while talking to me before.

“And then we end up fighting because both of us are too fucking stubborn to admit that we have feelings. It’s easier to get out our feelings by screaming than it is to say I love you.” He continued, this time I let him step closer to me with each word. 

“I love you.” I find myself whispering as he finally stands directly in front of me, his hand slowly finding mine and interlacing our fingers. 

“It seems like I’ve been waiting forever to hear that,” he said and smiles down at me. His smile spreading wider on his face when I feel myself smiling as well. “And I love you too. I think I always have.”

His lips moved painfully slow down to mine and as they connected I could feel my body lighting up in the kind of fire I’ve never felt before. Whenever we’ve kissed before I could feel the rushed nature and the anger from our screams only seconds before. But now, every angry feeling towards Shawn was wiped clean and his lips guided mine at a slow pace. A slow pace that made my knees weak and my mind go completely, utterly blank. 

“We’ll work through this.” He mumbled against my lips. 

I nodded and felt another smile form on my lips. 

“Just keep kissing me,” I said, pulling on the back of his neck and letting our lips meet once again. 

I should’ve known you didn’t love me back
because you only called me when you were lonely
and your kisses always tasted like vodka
rather than love unlike mine which was always so full of it

but i was too engrossed in the way
your hands felt in mine
to ever really get a chance
to open my fucking eyes and see
that i wasn’t the only one
you wanted to hold
hands with

i should’ve known you didn’t love me back
when i woke up that night alone
with a text message saying you had somewhere else to be
leaving me feeling empty and used

i guess that place was in her bed rather
than mine
and i shouldn’t be bitter
because you weren’t mine to begin with
and i saw it coming from a mile away

when you said you loved me
not looking me in the eye
ripping apart my fucking chest
right there as if you didn’t even know what you were doing
in that very moment

and i should’ve known i should’ve known i should’ve known you didn’t love me back

—  A.M// I hate that I didn’t figure it out sooner enough
Broken Heart

Originally posted by jeffatkinsimagines

The music was blaring loudly from the large speakers in the gym, lights flickering back and forth between different colors of the spectrum, the smell of punch lingered in the air mixed with alcohol that some students had managed to sneak in.

(Y/N) sat on the bleachers with her head down, looking at her short and shiny black heels that were beginning to make her feet ache. Reaching down, she took them off and wiggled her toes for a moment before sighed and leaning back against the bleacher behind her.

Keep reading

“i fought it for so damn long,” she says. “i tried so hard to not love you, but then you smiled, and i almost ripped my heart out of my chest and placed it in your hands”.

Remember the white dress I wore all through that film? George came up to me the first day of filming, took one look at the dress and said: “You can’t wear a bra under that dress.” “Ok, I’ll bite,” I said. “Why?” And he said: “Because… there’s no underwear in space.” He said it with such conviction. Like he had been to space and looked around and he didn’t see any bras or panties anywhere. He explained. “You go into space and you become weightless. Then your body expands but your bra doesn’t, so you get strangled by your own underwear.” I think that this would make for a fantastic obituary. I tell my younger friends that no matter how I go, I want it reported that I drowned in moonlight, strangled by my own bra.

You fall too fast too quick they say
But who are they to tell you how to feel
How to love
How to care
I was taught from a young age that if I don’t give love what’s the point of living
I held that close to me as a I grew up
Loving everyone and everything to come my way
Because maybe just maybe if I loved them they would go and share love with others
But life doesn’t work that way
I fell in love with people who didn’t love me
Who didn’t care
Who barely batted an eye as they ripped my heart from my chest leaving it hollow, smirking as they carelessly dropped it when they left shattering what I thought was my biggest asset in life
My mom didn’t warn me of that
She didn’t warn me of those who would do anything in their power to steal the happiness from your very own skeleton to fill the empty holes in theirs
But still
I loved
I loved with everything I had left in me
Until there was nothing left
Maybe that’s why I feel so empty
Because I gave all I could to get nothing in return
My mom said just wait, someone will come and fill you back up
But mom don’t you see that’s not how life works
I think I finally figured it out
You give love and sometimes you don’t get it back
But when you feel empty no one can fill those crevices in your aching body besides you
You are your own greatest love
So continue to spread love
But never forget to love yourself
I was strong. I knew that when I met you, that you were not completing my life but rather just adding to it. That if something happened and you were gone, I would be okay. I knew that. Until you said you didn’t love me anymore and I wasn’t strong enough. Not for this. Not for my heart being ripped from my chest. Not for my body convulsing from the pain. Not for drowning in my own tears. Not for losing you. I don’t think I will ever be strong enough for that.
—  I’m not ready for this.

I know you don’t love me. I know you don’t think about what it would be like to trace your fingertips along the edge of my jaw and across my eyelids and on the inside of my knee.

I know that I think about you as sunlight and that you don’t think about me at all. I know it’s a one-sided kind of love, the kind where you don’t taste acid on your tongue when you see someone’s hand around my own.

I know you don’t love me. I know you don’t, but I can’t help the fact that I love you. I love you so much that I slur it in drunken hazes and think about it when I go to sleep. I wish I could press my love into every inch of your skin and bruise it into your heart so that it could beat to the sound of my love, but you’re too out of reach and I’m too hard to love. Please know that I love you more than I can begin to stand. Please let me know if one day you wake up and suddenly see me in a different way.

I know you don’t feel me in your bones, but if you ripped my chest open all you’d find is your smile and your eyes and your laugh in the inseam of my heart. You’ll find the love that I possess, and the bleeding cracks from the love that you don’t.

—  Unrequited
Everything Has A Price // The Preacher’s Daughter Part Five [A Mitch Rapp Smut]

Author: @minhosmeanhoe

Series Masterlist

Series: Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Relationship: Mitch Rapp x Reader / Mitch Rapp x OFC

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Fingering, Pool Sex, Daddy Kink, Unprotected Sex, Violence, Fist Fighting, Talks about Death and Bodies, and Swearing.

Word Count: 8,533

Song: Crazy In Love by The Eden Project Ft. Leah Kelly

“I betrayed her, Mitch.” I cried hysterically as he drove like a madman to Lee’s house. “I told her I was gonna be there with her. If something happened to Nia, it’s all my fault.”

“Nothing happened to her.” Mitch replied, looking over at me with determination in his eyes. “She’s alive. I’m sure of it.”

“I-I’m gonna have to live with the weight of this for the rest of my life, aren’t I?” I sobbed.

“No, you’re not because she is okay.” My boyfriend argued.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because this is Nia we’re talking about. She’s strong and intimidating as hell. No bomb is gonna bring that girl down.”

My doe eyes looked up at Mitch in complete awe. Here was this guy who just happened to stumble into my life and ended up becoming one of the most important people to me.

I gave him a smile and a nod just as we entered Lee’s street, the loud sounds and flashing lights of cop cars and ambulances stealing my attention. The whole road was full of police officers and paramedics hard at work, pulling bodies and a few survivors out of the completely destroyed house. Black smoke filled the air and you could practically taste the burning wood on your tongue. Firefighters held up hoses in front of the house as they put out its fire. The whole street was an open invitation to pure chaos. 

Keep reading

I didn’t know that it was possible to grieve someone who’s still alive.
—  I’m not being dramatic it’s just that missing you is like ripping my heart from my chest

the way harry so respectfully talks about taylor and the relationship he once had with her makes my heart really happy because taylor gets so many asshole men but harry is different. taylor deserves to be spoken about highly and warmly and haRRY DOES THAT. HE HAS NEVER STOPPED CARING ABOUT HER. HE HAS NEVER STOPPED SUPPORTING HER. MY HAYLOR HEART IS RIPPING FROM MY CHEST.

I Will Not Let You Fly Away From Me...(James March X Fem!Reader)

a|n: so guys, I am back on track! I used to run “@imagineslut33″, but upon an ufortunate sequence of events, my account got hacked and deleted…Sad, I know. But meh, I created this blog and I will be posting on it. I missed you all. Honestly, I hope you guys haven’t forgotten me, and still enjoy my writing! 

summary: After finding out what James had done in the past to his Holden, John Lowe kidnaps the reader, and tortures her. At Devil’s Night, he finally decides to kill her…But what he wasn’t expecting, was that March would rather miss his glorious dinner to save his beloved wife…

trigger warning: contais gore, torture and swearing. 

recommended song during your reading: skinny love by birdy

Originally posted by evanpeterscharacters


My name is (Y/N). Yes, (Y/N) March, the wife of the successful businessman James P. March, owner of the Cortez, a hotel in Los Angeles. I was abducted. I think I’ve been here for about seven days, but this isn’t an exact projection. I might be here much longer or even less. I don’t know, I’ve lost track of time down here. All I have left is the darkness and dripping wetness of this nightmare that I am at. My head hurts. I feel very cold. I’m here, trapped, inside this dark, filthy , tight, stifling hole … I know I’m here because of James.

I have never done bad, evil things. I have always helped people, close or far, I have participated in charity events, I donate a lot of money to the poor, I finance works of art and academics from those who could not, I have always acted with fairness and ethics at work, and especially in the family. I don’t deserve this… I’m stunned. I don’t wanna credit someone to whom I have done good, this cruel, violent and inhuman act of putting an individual under these conditions in which I find myself at.

I believe that I’ve done something wrong, involuntarily.- I think it would be a horrible punishment, an unacceptable torture even for the worst criminal. And yet, here I am. In a hole about half a meter in diameter and ten deep. Walls of a black smelly land, as if it were sewage. Yeah, maybe that’s right: given the depth of where I am and the poorly finished walls of the place.

My head seems to want to explode. Darkness obviously affects my visual perception of things, my reasoning, my ability to disagree…I have not eaten well for a long time. Before, they’d throw pieces of bread, some fruits already eaten or rotted… water? Only when it comes from some corner of this hole, and then I have to lean my tongue against the wall to suck the black cauldron that flows, with putrid taste and bitter as gall. But this is what is keeping me alive in these days (or hours?).

I don’t remember how I ended up down here…

The last thing I remember, before waking up in this fucking chamber of terror, is to be crossing the street to get into the Cortez, and hearing someone calling me by my name. As I turned around, I felt someone gripping my arm and the blow made me faint. Thick ropes tie my wrists and ankles, and however great my efforts, the most I can do is getting hurt. 

Impossible to escape from this trap. Brilliant and sadistic! I’m not gagged. So I scream! I scream for hours. Every now and then, I hear laughter, far away. Pure mockery of my meager efforts. I’m tired, hungry, weak, almost ragged. I can’t take it anymore. 

I’m going to faint right here…


Hours Later…

Originally posted by dinsintegration

I feel my body shaking, which makes me wake up startled. I cannot see. I guess I’m blindfolded. By the continuous swing, I am able to deduce that I am sitting in the backseat of some car.

“I am glad you’re awake, little one.”

The voice that I hear gives me shivers. A knot begins to form in my throat and my skin acquires an even paler tone.

“John?” I am able to whisper with a shaky voice. The gag doesn’t allow me to yell, though.

“I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through, (Y/N). It kills me to know it had to be you. But you know your husband destroyed my life…Unstructured my entire family. I need to get my revenge, (Y/N). I know, I know! You’ve always supported me, heard me when I needed to rent, were my shoulder to cry on…” John stayed in silence for a few, it seemed as if he was trying not to cry. “You have to forgive me. I really thought about killing Elizabeth instead, but it wouldn’t work out. It would never work out. You are March’s newest obssession, the only light that shine through the darkness of his pathetic post-death immortal life.” 

Originally posted by akamatthewmurdock

“GOD DAMN IT! COULD YOU PLEASE STOP CRYING, (Y/N)?” John yelled, making me cry harder. God, I wanna stop, but I can’t…I am too weak…

I feel the car braking abruptly…

“I am so sorry…but I can’t stand seeing you in that way…I love you…” John says before opening the door, closing it with certain violence. Then, I hear him opening the trunk, and the silence prevails for about twenty minutes, I am not sure about the exact time. 

Moments later, the door next to me is open and John roughly pulls me out by my arm. A muffled scream escapes my throat as I’m dragged to god knows where. It rains a lot, and the mud dirties my bare feet. John whispers a few words sweetly, wrapping me in a tight hug. So he pushes me. I fall backwards into a deep hole.

  Judging by the soft earth and the tight environment, it is a grave. I despair. I feel the earth hitting my skin. I’m being buried alive. I begin to consider a faster death, like a shot in the head. This is macabre stuff… 

And suddenly, all the unforgettable memories with James come flashing into my disturbed mind. How cruel he could be with other people, but how kind and romantic he was with me. James was the first man who gave me flowers, who besides telling me, show me and make me feel how beautiful I am. He made me feel a strong, sensual, independent woman. Many consider him a monster, but I knew his innocent side. A path with no return. Because a villain, is nothing but a victim whose story has never been told.” 

John keeps throwing down the earth, and eventually I stop struggling. Soon, the mud is already hitting my face. Yup, I’m going to die right here…

Originally posted by human-perfectibility

“You traitorous bastard!”

I hear the piercing voice and my husband’s striking accent echoing through the thunders that cut through LA’s nightly sky. His words are filled with hatred, and the weight of betrayal seems to weigh on his shoulders. John Lowe. The man who James trusted, now stabbed him on the back. He was a perfect illusion. 

Punching, growling, jerking and shrieking can be heard from within the grave, and my heart races,violently hammering my chest. 

Finally, I feel a gentle, kind of desperate touch gripping my arm, gently pulling me into a man’s lap. My man. My James. 

Originally posted by softlysaygoodbye

The blindfold that is tied around my eyes is ripped off, along with the gag. Tears fall from my eyes, trickling down my face, my skin dirty from lack of hygiene. A relieved scream escapes my throat as I feel James’s strong arms being tightly wrapped around my waist.

“Darling, I am right here. I am so sorry I ever let this happen to you.” He says softly, pulling my face to press against his chest, probably being shameful of his tears.  

“James…It’s Halloween, what about Devil’s Night?” I ask through my tears, slightly shaking. 

“I couldn’t care less about Devil’s Night, my dear!” James mutters, a tone of disbelief in his voice. “You are far more important than anything else, (Y/N). I promise that he will never harm you again. Do not worry your pretty head about that, sweetheart.” 

“I love you, James. So much…” 

James gently scoops me up, bridal style. He kisses my forehead, starting to slowly walk away from that horrible place. 

“Come, darling. It is time for you to go home.”

I find myself crying in my best friends bedroom at two am asking myself how the fuck I fell so deeply for a boy I never saw coming. I bite my nails to the quick and smile half heartedly but never for long. I feel dizzy upon standing on my feet and wipe my tears in public bathrooms, straightening my makeup so many times in one day I wonder why I bother putting it on anymore. It’s not like there’s anyone I have to look nice for, anyway. “Its either there or it isn’t,” you say. I lay in the bed I loved you in asking where I went wrong again, I can feel my heart pounding in my chest and every beat aches for your touch. My lips still taste like you and my fingertips still remember the firmness of your body against mine, when all we had to do was breathe and be together and move. Why cant everything be as simple as kissing is? Why can’t it all make as much sense? “It isn’t there,” you tell me. “I knew from the beginning it wasn’t there.” When I’m with you I find myself asking myself why the fuck I’m doing this, spilling my love over someone who will wipe it off of his clothes before he leaves again. “Just go,” I tell you, when all I want to do is pull you so close so you’ll stay. But you look down at me like you almost feel bad for me for falling in love with someone like you. Someone who is tall and beautiful and honest and completely uninterested in the idea of loving them in return. “Is that your girlfriend?” Someone asks you when we are together. “No,” you say too naturally, too loudly. I try not to flinch as I stare down at the dinner you got us, curling my toes against the truth I’ve been trying so desperately to be okay with. Maybe that means I don’t respect myself, that I’d give everything you want if you only asked for it. Because I felt as lonely as I did in the darkest times of my life when you held me. Still unloved. Still alone. Yet here with you. Every kiss I gave you was a question, every sigh that escaped my lips was a plea for you to please, please, give me something more than this. But you hugged me without your hands lingering on my body and by that time tomorrow you said I was never different to you. I was in grocery store on a Sunday afternoon wondering how the hell I’m going to get through today and tomorrow and the day after that without you, I was wandering through midday thinking about whose lips you’re kissing now. And I have dreams of ripping my own heart out of my chest as if the pain you left me was something that can be held. But it can only be felt. And feeling was something you were never good at. You didn’t seem to even care when you told me you felt nothing for me, as if shattering heartbeats like violin music gone shrill was clockwork instead of something girls cried over when their loved ones weren’t looking. “Where do you want to go from here?” You asked me, and it took everything in me not to say the only place I wanted to be in was your arms around me, where I could sleep soundly because I knew I was the only girl you wanted to hold. I wanted to be in a world that doesn’t exist and that is why I bury my face in my pillow at night and still shiver when the scent of you is on the wind.

-ap (9.17) this is what it feels like when you touch me and this is what it feels like when I love you

No, no you didn’t break my heart.
You ripped it out of my chest.
You tore me open and watched as the blood poured out.
You took my heart in your hands and crushed it.
You stomped on it, burned it, carved your name into it with your fingers.
You did not break my heart.
You killed me.
And you didn’t even have to try.
—  you took my heart with you when you left and i’m not sure if i’m ever getting it back

i. “how could you love someone like me?” she asks, her lips the galaxy’s edge. rosewater slips from my lips as i reply, “darling, how could i not?”

ii. every time she speaks, i swoon; her laugh reminiscent of the cries of angels; a natural blessing, of course. as if christened by the heavens themselves, she sparkles; eyes cut like diamonds; eyes caught in headlights. she is a diamond in the rough i want to polish with bare hands, but i cannot afford such a luxury.

iii. our story isn’t one of love; and i realise this when her eyes trail elsewhere. when she digs her fingers into my chest and rips out my heart; she expects milk and honey to stick to her fingers. she had a heart too easily made glad; a face worthy of pressing into magazine print, and yet white slices dotted her arms and sorrows stuck to her mind.

iiii. are we sisters? are we lovers? when i take her fingers between mine; watch as her mouth curls at the edges; feel as the universe shifts beneath us, i wonder when the day that this blurred line becomes clear will arrive.

iiiii. a question so simple, the answer cannot be fathomed. her eyes twinkle like chistmas lights; impish grin a feature i tuck into my mind. and damn, is she an angel in disguise. a diamond in the rough that need never be polished.

even in this cracked darkness.

—  we were queens