When I Was “I Want Him” About A Male Character Im Not Saying I Wanna Fuck Him. I Want Him Like A

💙🩵

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."

𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐅 𝐈𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓:

Dabi picking up your pieces and taking your hand as you’re laying on the bed because feelings have been too heavy today. He picks you up and helps you get dressed up and takes you to a car ride while blasting music in the background. He drives to your special spot, so that you can both look at the sky full of stars and the bright moonlight. He hugs you from behind and he takes your hand to point at the stars “When feelings are too hard to handle, I look at the stars and the moon because they remind me of you. No matter how much darkness and emptiness you feel inside, you exist and shine so bright that you brighten up everything and everyone around you.“ “But I’m in a horrible state right now, I doubt I can shine.” “Wrong. You’re tearing up and the spark in your eyes is much visible.” “But it’s because I’m crying.” “Tears are shiny, look at the stars …they look like glitters and glitters are sparkly. You love stars so much, right? So do I. Your tears are sparkly and they are precious, like the glittery stars in the sky.” “I love every tiny piece of you, I’ll be with you so that you can dance with me under the moonlight forever.”

i miss them

you and i will always be back then

Just a reminder:

It is not okay to say/think that Dabi and/or Shigaraki can only be viewed as attractive or hot when they do not have any skin conditions (making edits of them without their scars is a huge part of this problem as well but so many of yall somehow still hype those up).

It is not okay to refer to Dabi and/or Shigaraki as “crispy”, “burnt something” and/or any other degrading names regarding their skin conditions. That shit is not funny. It comes from a place of hatred and it is not okay. Stop that. 

It is also not okay to say people are weird/a “walking red flag” when they find them attractive, because, again, you are implying that people with skin conditions cannot be seen as attractive, which is just so wrong and fucked up.

Your dumb ass jokes about them and about the way they look were never funny and will never be funny. Do better.

Dabi Touya has been plotting.

god he's so fucking pathetic. what a god damn loser. (insane with lust)

i miss him (tomura shigaraki)

when i tell u i cried

opabsolutely enamored with dabi begrudgingly having to accommodate softness. like yeah, he's been buying less cigs bc while he does want to get you addicted to kissing him, he doesn't want you to deal w the consequences of smoking, you now regularly taste cheap mints when you lean in for a peck, & if you smoke already he's always stealing ur cigs. you walk out to greet him & see him either out of the window or through the peephole; brushing off his jacket & trying to fix his hair in the reflection of the door handle, immediately straightening up when you walk outside. dabi, calling you stupid for buying him flowers & saying it was unnecessary but like, he's hiding his embarrassed face behind the bouquet of violets (you said they were his colour) & finding some old jug to put them in when he gets back. places them on his bedroom windowsill & wonders how you could see such nice flowers from any aspect of himself. dabi, who knows that you don't get to be who he is & have good things & people happen to you & like, if he oversteps & accepts such care it'll like jinx it & the universe will make you explode or some shit. he deadpans when you let him sleepover & you insist on getting him blankets & you're shoving some stuffed toy next to him before turning off the light, he promptly throws it over his shoulder in annoyance, several seconds pass, & he's sighing as he gets up to collect it again. dabi, who absolutely doesn't get what you see in him at all, he's actively suicidal & has nothing to give you. dabi, who doesn't understand the concept of softness without punishment, yet can't seem to be able to be cruel to you. dabi, who contemplates burning you alive the first time you hold him, but doesn't. who paces around your room at night, staring at you sleeping, thinking about how easily someone can take you away. thinking about how stupid you are for associating with him, thinking about how stupid he is for not killing you. wondering about how he's been allowed this strange innocent romance that's the polar opposite of who he is & what he embodies. dabi, who yearns for your approval & praise like some angry ex fighting dog, who stands as still as the statues of icons he's toppled while you rub his shoulders. dabi, who continously distances himself but always ends up back at your doorstep somehow, even as his skin gets worse. who curiously & cautiously dances around the question of whether or not you think he's still handsome when he's basically just a walking corpse. dabi, who feels like shit about the way he makes you worry about him & the way he treats you but it's the only way he knows how to act, he wonders why he can't just be the person you must see him as. dabi, who is a sucker for your long goodbye kisses bc you dont know if he's going to return alive. dabi, who is much better at falling asleep while hugging your hoodies than he is in a bed. dabi, who can't accept many of the meals you give him because years of homelessness just means proper food makes him sick, yet he still tries to shove as many of your pancakes in his face as possible, not caring how he's hunched over the toilet hours later. dabi, who asks toga what someone like you would like for their birthday, he doesn't own a smart phone or even a calendar but it doesn't matter bc he's counting down the days. dabi, who goes to your home in the dead of night & makes excuses but really, it's because he was thinking too hard, & he breaks your heater deliberately & insists you hug for warmth. dabi, who sees snippets of romance movies toga watches & wonders whether you'd like to be treated like that, but instead you got saddled with him. dabi, who is being torn apart at the seams at the idea of actually living in such a ragged state, laughing at the fact that his purpose for being had such a simple answer this entire time while he was busy ruining himself through the complexities of past abuse, terrorism, & murder for some grand theatrical reason to die. it's the answer that means he would've lived... if he only knew you a long time ago, bc it's too late now.

dabi, who lets you pull him away from the fighting & scheming to rest inside a minute or two together. dabi, who thinks that maybe a purpose doesn't need to last a lifetime, at this point, having known you, he'd be happy with it lasting just one more day... but that wouldn't be fair to you, you deserve a nice house with a dog & some children & normalcy. dabi, who thinks it takes a real masochist to love someone who refuses to live a life with you. dabi, who lit your rug on fire after you jumped out at him to jokingly surprise him, too on edge to allow himself to relax, who gets mad with himself & sits outside like he's punishing a child & repeats to himself that this type of shit is the exact reason why none of this will ever work. dabi, who lets you adjust his tie before he has to go to some formal event for his villainous work, who mumbles how it almost looks like he's dressed for a wedding while staring directly at you. after a swift kiss is left on his cheek & he's wished good luck, the smoke consuming his insides suffocates the butterflies in his stomach before they even have a chance to hatch as he tears his gaze away. dabi, whose eyes bulge out of his skull when toga enters & asks if you two have been "kiissssingggg" in a drawn out, giggly voice as he grunts at her. dabi, who used to sleep facing the door, completely tense, but now sleeps against the wall with his limbs wrapped around you, refusing to let you go. dabi, who keeps telling you that you can't keep loving someone who is already dead & laughs that it will never work & that you're very stupid for hanging around him, while you just roll your eyes before hugging him, saying that you'd be fine with just one more day with him. dabi, who finds himself agreeing, he's always agreed, & if being hurt is what you want, it's what he does best. dabi, who gradually returns the hug. DABI!

praying 4 tomorrow lads