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🍋🖤Bad Habits Pt.1🍋🖤- Shoto Todoroki

it was toxic.

so fucking toxic.

but he couldn't help it.

as soon as shoto's phone pinged that familiar ping, one he changed for your contact only, his heart would leap in his chest with happiness, as he knew the message was because you wanted him. only to clench almost painfully in his chest, when he remembered it wasn't for the reasons he so desperately craved.

then his mind's own selfish desires reigned its ugly head again, filtering out all of the negatives to focus on the positives. like the way it felt so good to have your hands running over his body. or the way your lips brushed over the skin of his neck, leaving trails of heat wherever they grazed. maybe the way you managed to touch him more delicately than anybody had ever done before in his life.

next, he was unlocking his phone, slim fingers shooting you a quick reply to come over, and that no, he wasn't busy. ha, tell that to the towers of coursework sitting neatly untouched on his desk. they had honestly escaped his mind the moment you entered, so unintentionally distracting.

after that, shoto rushed to tidy up his place a little bit - you only lived a few streets away, and it never took you too long to get there. a quick glance into his bedroom mirror to check his appearance. would it be better to change into something else? you always expressed how much you loved his legs, at that moment encased in some black joggers. yes, he eventually decided, racing to his dresser to pull out some (f/c) short shorts bought specifically for you, also ditching his boxers on the way. he kept on the white sweater he was wearing beforehand, coming to the conclusion that it made him look cute.

the moment the door opened, shoto could smell it. you had been smoking again. he didn't have much hostility against people using weed (after all, it wasn't his business) but certainly not when you were under the influence when you visited him.

you were so much more gentle, and affectionate - although you still were when you weren't, don't get him wrong - with everything. every other sentence out of your mouth was a compliment. touches that ghosted his skin as if pressing too hard would cause him to break beneath your palms like fine china. shoto liked to think that was what you would be like, should the two of you actually be dating, and with you as hopelessly in love with him as he was with you.

the first praise for this particular night was said after you had pulled him closer, your scent completely invading his senses and making him feel borderline delirious. you smoothly hoisted him up, hands cupping his ass while his legs tightly wound around your waist. you're so beautiful, sho, you muttered against his lips as you walked forward, left foot reaching out to close the door behind you. he couldn't help the blush that rose on his face, letting his heterochromatic eyes fall shut when you pressed tender kisses to his burn mark. with his heart racing impossibly fast, he'd tangle his fingers in your hair, tugging hard enough to connect your lips in an ardent kiss.

there were no words that could describe the nights he spent in bed with you. heaven. paradise. nirvana. perfect. were all close contenders. how could you describe it? when everything about you seemed to make shoto feel whole, like you were the missing piece in his life's million piece puzzle.

everything fit perfectly. your hands on his waist, your lips on his, you inside him. filling him up to the brim. there surely was no better place to be. hearing you moan his name in that deep, husky voice could send him over the edge on its own. every roll, every thrust, every grind of your bodies together managed to erase every shitty thing happening in life, all falling away until there was nothing left but the both of you drowning in ecstasy.

you would take care of him afterwards as well, cleaning him out, making sure he wasn't hurting or needing at all. or the odd times he asked you to be rough with him, putting ointment on any bruises or marks you had left behind.

you didn't want to sleep the night, and had left after chilling with him for another half hour. the moment he heard the door shut behind you, shoto wouldn't even be able to keep up the facade. everything would hit him at once, ten times harder than it would have, had you stayed and he could play make-believe longer.

the fact that you weren't his, and he wasn't yours.

he'd cry until his face was ridden with tears and snot, scream until his throat hurt, hurl things until there was nothing left to hurl. anything to let out his pain. it would become difficult to breathe and his head would pound. everything just hurt.

it was hard - god knows it was hard - convincing himself that what you did wasn't because of you possessing feelings for him. shoto always knew he wasn't anything special in your eyes, your beautiful (e/c) eyes that looked at him like he was a rare constellation of stars, despite how hard he tried to make it seem like so. the toughest part was acknowledging that you looked at everyone like that.

after his childhood, shoto vowed to never let anyone tear down his walls, and leave him vulnerable - never again. but somehow you managed to do it. and god, the worst thing about it was you didn't even realise how addicting it was.

Credit to-sharitachi