This Actually Healed And Destroyed Me At The Same Time.

this actually healed and destroyed me at the same time.

"NOT TO ME, NOT IF IT'S YOU"

pairing: dabi/ todoroki touya x gn!reader

warnings: s3lf h4rm, blood, suicidal thoughts, mentions of blades, mentions of reader's family problems, self doubt, etc.

wc: 3k+

a/n: not proof read. also idk why i chose a plot like this to write on but i know it's not only me who suffers from these kind of addictions and know that wherever or whoever you are, you're not alone. <3

you're lying with your back pressed to the cold bathroom wall. you shiver, almost drop the blade in your hand.

why am i like this?

the house is quiet. the world also is. the voice of the tapping water sound of your faucet is all that catches your ears. but your mind's too blurry to care.

you're soaked in wet blood from your chest to your knees. its stupid is what it is, you think. what was wrong you? even though if you suffer you shouldn't give in your thoughts that easily. your self control felt way too far at the moment. the sore feeling of your arm made you drift into the heavy silence as your eyes closed shut.

the next thing you hear is banging. you jump awake from your sleep as you try to gain consciousness of the situation.

"doll? i know you're here, open the door."

you stood up as quick as you can and pulled down the sleeves of your shirt. your figure catches your gaze from the reflection on the mirror. you looked horrible, and the blood soaked clothes didnt seem to help you any better.

you quickly put on a jacket you tossed aside sometime you dont even remember when and thank your luck for it.

when you open the door, you see your boyfriend with a frown on his face.

"what took you so long?" he mutters as if he wasn't almost torning your door apart just a few seconds ago. "you got me worried."

you take a few steps back and turn your back to him. you didn't want him to see your drained face. "why are you banging the door like that? jeez, calm down, i'm here."

his gaze travels around your body and stops at a specific place when the little blood stain on your sleeve catches his eye. he frowns and and tiltes his head.

"what's wrong with you?" he throws. even though his voice comes out nonchalant, the worried look on his face gives him away.

"what do you mean?" you bite back. "i'm fine."

the tension in the room is poisonous. you're scared shitless that he might notice your situation and in the other hand he knows something is terribly wrong but he doesn't know how to throw hands.

so you both do what you two do the best, rage.

"you don't look fine." he hisses. you swear you see him clenching his jaw and giving you the look that sent shivers down your spine. you move your trembling hands in front of you so he wouldn't see how fucked up your situation was right now.

fucking christ, you thought. is it really the best time for you to be here?

when his question remains unanswered, he calls your name. however, you're convinced to not answer. you're scared for your life that if you say anything he'll notice it.

"touya, i'm sorry but i just want to sleep. if you're just here to rage at me then i'm afraid i won't be returning it bac-"

your words get cut when you feel the grip of his rough hands on your wrist. you hiss in pain at the sudden movement as he stands just a few inches away from your face.

"answer me, y/n. answer me when i ask you what's wrong." you feel your gut turning in your stomach when you feel his deep and serious voice hitting your face. you swear he hears your pumping heartbeat at that second.

"i did." you try to sound calm and perfectly fine. though, you knew you couldn't put an act. not with him. you knew incredibly well that whatever you were selling, he wasn't buying.

"i told you that i'm fine. why are you exaggerating?"

he lowers his head and his lips are now just in front of yours. his rough gaze never leaves your eyes and you desperately wish for a miracle to pull you out from your situation. "because i know for a fucking fact that you're lying."

when you don't answer, he shifts his grip from your wrist to the sleeve of your jacket to slide it up. the next thing you feel is a gut wrenching fear and pain when you pull your arm from his hands as hard as you can.

"the fuck you're doing?" you hiss. you take a few steps back but realize your struggles weren't working when he took the same amount of steps at you till you were captured between him and your window.

"get away." you spit out. "you're being fucking weird." he blocks you with his huge figure when you try to get out of the situation by moving out from the side gape.

"i said get away!"

"talk to me!"

you have tears in your eyes that are just waiting for your next move to spill on your cheeks. you cuss yourself, even despise yourself mentally. you couldn't cry here like that, not in front of him.

"talk to me so i can fucking understand what's going on! i can't just miraculously find out the issue!"

"nobody asked you to do it anyway!" you finally push him away with the last strength you found in yourself. "stop creating a scene and let me fucking rest god dammit!"

when you try to walk away to your bed, your movements are once again cut with another grip on your wrists. this time, you don't only hiss, but yelp at the sore pain of the cut he was squeezing between his hands.

"i told you to get away from m-"

this time, you're cut with an embrace instead of an another yell from him. your body shakes under his as your knees give in to his warmness. he keeps you like that till you silently sob on his chest with his hands caressing your scalp gently. he patiently listens to you spilling out your venomous drops of pain as he whispered quiet nothings into your ear.

"sshh, doll, it's okay. i'm here, alright? everything's fine. you're safe here, angel. you're okay."

when your tears subside, he gently pulls your head from his chest and look at your eyes with a bright spark of care and love in his' nobody has probably ever seen before.

"are you feeling better, love?" he strokes your cheek with his thumb carefully, like you were a brittle tea cup in front of him that could shatter into pieces by any second. all you can do is to nod tiredly at him and try to erase the pain in your chest that's been strangling you ever since.

he gently holds you from your waist and your wrists, this time more carefully. he leads you to your bed and sits you there. he pecks a kiss on your forehead. "wait me here." you hear him speak, but can't really keep up with his pace. by the time you turn your head to see where he went, he was already gone.

a few moments later with you sitting silently at the same spot he had put you, he came back with an aid kid in his hands and sit on the bed next to you.

what happened after was silence. you turned your face away from him in shame when he gently took off your jacket and revealed your torned apart arm. no words were spoken as he carefully wiped the dirty blood and patched up your fresh scars with bandages. he silently dressed you up in fresh clean clothes and tucked you into bed as he turned the lights off.

"are you mad at me?" you ask, after what feels like forever. he tightens his grip around your waist at that. "why would i be?"

"i don't know." you mutter, it's almost unable to hear. "i am insufferable."

he raises his face from the crook of your neck to your chest. no matter how dark the room is, you swear you see his azure irises looking at you right by your side.

"i'm mad at the world. for having you get so hopeless and done with your life. i'm mad at your family for wasting you and doing all of this with no spark of care. i'm mad at myself because no matter how long i knew you were on thin ice, i didn't do anything about it. i am mad at everything but you. i can never be mad at you. you have done nothing for me to be mad at you."

"im sorry." you whisper.

"and why's that?"

"i put you through a lot. i always create a problem and always get you worried about me."

your gaze once again turns back at him when he wraps his finger around a strand piece of your hair and tugs it behind your ear. his voice is soft and careful when he speaks. "you're all i have in this life, doll. you deserve every good thing in this life and every little thing that it brings to you. you give me everything i could ever ask for. you love me, not for who i can be, but for who i am. that's the least i can do for you."

you don't talk for a few moments after that. his thumb brushing on your cheek helps you just perfectly to slip off of your worries. his warmness was all you have needed.

"you don't have to do that though."

"but i want to." he's clear on what he's trying to imply and your words could only make him go harder on you to believe his words. he once again drops his head in the crook of your neck as he holds you closer.

"i'll take care of you." he kisses your neck.

"it's rotten work."

"not to me. not if it's you."