Villainous [Hitoshi Shinso X Reader]

[Chapter 27]: Gone

Warning: Sexual content
~~~~~~~~~~

Hurriedly gathering all of the necessary supplies to treat Hitoshi's wounds, I tried to forget about Aizawa's parting words: "I'm sorry that I was never able to save you."
He always saved me. How could he not realize that?
Cotton balls, rubbing alcohol, bandages, and clean cloths were all piled high in my arms as I briskly shuffled from the tiny bathroom to my bedroom at the other end of the hall. Nothing, it seemed, was making sense as of late.
Slamming open the door with more force than was necessary, I promptly dumped all of the materials onto my bed. Hitoshi was staring at me, shallow breaths encouraging me to work faster. His eyes never left me as I flittered around the room, picking up random pill bottles before placing them back on the floor in irritation. Most of them were sleeping pills, but somewhere... there! I quickly scrambled to twist off the lid to the bottle that I had been searching for, shaking a few tablets out before tossing it carelessly to the other side of my room.
"Here," I thrusted my hand into his face. "Take these."
Quirking a brow, Hitoshi pushed himself onto his elbows with a wince. "Painkillers?"
"Yes, Dipshit," I responded, my gentle hands pushing him back down onto the bed a complete contrast to my callous tone. "'Cause you're clearly in pain."
"Why do you have them?"
I blinked. "My head. It numbed the throbbing."
Hitoshi appeared unconvinced, but didn't press the matter. Swiping the pills from my unclasped hand, he knocked them back without even batting an eye.
"Do you want some water with those pills?" I teased.
Hitoshi settled back into the pillows, allowing his muscles to relax. I took note of how his abs rippled and tensed, how his arms, which were folded under his head, flexed with the strain... I gulped.
"Been working out?" I questioned, not even trying to be subtle. "Last I remember, you were just barely passable as lanky."
Lies.
I knew it. He knew it. The cats in the street knew it. But I refused to feed into his ego even more than I probably already was.
He rolled his eyes. "You could say that. The villains... they don't exactly give you a break."
A heavy silence pressed in around us. Neither of us mentioned what had happened the last time we saw each other, what happened afterwards. The torture. The brainwashing. The unspoken words.
     None of it seemed to matter.
"Mind telling me how you managed to hobble your way to my apartment and through the window?" I changed the subject.
Hitoshi offered a tiny grin. "I'm a man of great wonders and mystery. I'll never tell."
Snorting at his claims with a cotton ball doused in rubbing alcohol now in hand, I began dabbing at the ragged edges of his many wounds. His expression remained placid, but I could still see the faint flicker of pain in his eyes. I smiled apologetically.
It wasn't necessary to ask how he had gotten the wounds. We both knew what had happened. He let me escape, saved my life—so the League nearly took his as compensation.
My fingers fumbled for some string. "These injuries are pretty deep. I'll have to stitch you up. Hope you're not afraid of needles..."
"Oh no," he said dryly. "Not needles. My one and only weakness."
Threading the string quickly, I inched closer to his skin. "This might hurt a little."
"You a doctor now?"
"You're the one that came to me," I quipped. "So unless you'd rather me kick your sorry ass back out the window, you'll deal with it."
I punctured his skin, precisely creating a neat line of stitch work across the wide laceration. He sucked in a sharp breath.
"I'll deal with it," he muttered. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
Paying him no mind, I snipped the end of the string and sealed it tight. He could complain all he wanted—it was a damn good stitch. Finished with the needle, I traded it for a cloth which I dipped into a bucket of water beside my bed. I scrubbed at the grime on his stomach and arms, working my way up until I was finally stroking his cheeks. I pressed my forehead to his.
     My eyes were squeezed shut in a valiant attempt to suppress tears of relief and remorse. It didn't work. His thumb brushed away the stubborn liquid trailing down my face and tilted my head up. I opened my eyes.
"Crying for me now?" He mocked, but his voice was so soft. "I knew you cared."
"Of course I do..." I muttered. "If I didn't, I would have let you bleed out on my carpet."
Hitoshi clucked his tongue. "No, you wouldn't have. We both know how you feel about cleaning. Do you know how hard it is to scrub blood out of fabric?"
"And you do?"
He shrugged. "I've picked up a few things."
Leaning forward, I tenderly pressed my lips to his. "So have I. Now, stay still. I need to bandage you up."
Rolling his eyes, he deflated against the blankets. "As if I have a choice."
"At least you know," I winked.
Unwinding a roll of medical gauze while simultaneously plucking pins from the first aid kit splayed at my feet was no easy task. Hitoshi, staying true to his word, remained still as I struggled. Obviously, he was enjoying the show. Prick.
Finally, after all of the materials were gathered and ready, I began my task of wrapping Hitoshi's frame. I started at the front, leaning into his body to reach around the back as I worked. The warmth he radiated made my skin tingle, his breath caressing the nape of my neck challenging my focus. I ignored this. Carefully and skillfully, my nimble fingers pinned the bandages into place with the practiced expertise of a girl who had done the very same thing to herself many times before.
"I hate that you're good at this..." Hitoshi murmured sadly. "How many times have you done this?"
"I don't know. Best not to keep track—there. All done."
Stretching and twisting, Hitoshi appeared satisfied with the results. "Thanks."
There was a brief moment where neither of us spoke, simply staring at one another waiting to see who would make the next move. He reached across me to grab the shirt I had brought for him. It was his. One that I had surreptitiously snagged after training long ago—it felt like ages between then and now.
"Was this just a casual drop-in to get fixed up?" I whispered, voice cracking.
He knew what I was asking. Are you staying?
He pulled the shirt over his head. "They already know I'm gone. If I don't go back soon..."
"You can't go wandering around like this," I waved a hand at his shabby appearance. "You'll draw attention."
"Hard not to with this much charm."
I jabbed his side with my finger and he hissed in surprise. Shifting my gaze to the window, I remained silent. My lower lip wobbled knowing that I was about to lose him. Again.
"You never gave me the chance to answer you."
Hitoshi seemed bemused. "What?"
I took a shaky breath. "That night. When you brainwashed me. You—you asked if I loved you."
Out of shame or embarrassment—I wasn't sure which—Hitoshi blushed. A deep, brazen wash of red tinting his cheeks all the way from his neck to the tips of his ears. He turned away from me, but it was there. And it was the most glorious thing I had ever seen.
"I do." I confessed. Hitoshi's eyes widened. "I love you. I don't think that I've ever loved someone like this before. When you're gone... it feels like everything around me loses its colour. All of the auras, the people around me, none of it can compare to how obnoxiously vibrant you are. Then when you leave, everything seems so dull. That spark you have—it's unlike any other... I suppose that's why I fell in love with you."
What I wouldn't have given for a camera in that moment. As I uttered my last words, heart spilling past my lips and into Hitoshi's ears like honey, his expression was sublime. Jaw slackened, eyes half-lidded, and the most appealing shade of rosy pink that I had ever seen dusting his pale cheeks. I wanted to commemorate the moment, to never let it go—because I knew that if he didn't accept me, it would be all that I had left.
"I—" he choked, glancing away bashfully. He didn't seem capable of forming coherent words. That was before a smile, more radiant than all of the stars in the sky, adorned his face. "I told you I was charming. Guess you couldn't resist my glittering personality, after all?"
"Fuck off." I breathed, feeling as though I was staring into the light of the sun.
He rambled, "What really sold it? My looks or my insatiable wit?"
Groaning in frustration, my hands flew up to cover my burning face. I had just cracked my very soul open in front of this boy, poured all of my love out onto the floor for him, and what does he do? Teases me. He seriously had the gull to stand there, grinning like an idiot, and tease me.
I really should have expected that. It was one of the many reasons that I adored him.
Before I could even turn away to collect myself, Hitoshi was on me, lips fitting to mine in a heated kiss. I gasped at the sudden force, not quite sure how or when I had ended up with my back pressed against the mattress with Hitoshi hovering above me. Hips, chest, lips—all deliciously aligned with my own.
He pulled back just as quickly, leaving my head spinning and my breath stuttering. I had no time to recover as Hitoshi was already diving into the crook of my neck, lips suctioning onto the soft, unmarked flesh. Taking full advantage of the situation, his free hand slipped beneath the hem of my shirt, wandering upwards with a clear objective in mind.
Everything was fuzzy, my thoughts and emotions in shambles—love, surprise, nerves, desire... A breathy moan filled the air, eliciting a very cocky, very sexy, smirk from my purple-haired boyfriend. His thumb ran gentle, soothing circles over my hipbone, making me squirm as he pulled away from the hollow of my throat. The other hand ghosted over the deep purple bruise that was pulsating just above my collarbone, admiring his handiwork no doubt. Our eyes met.
We both knew it—there was no going back.
"I think I can stay a while longer..."
Scoffing, I dragged his lips back to mine by the back of his head. "I figured you would."
"I love you, (Y/N)," he whispered, drawing back from my embrace. "I didn't know what to say after that speech of yours, but I do. It's a lot easier to make jokes than to put my heart on the line, but I wanted to say it. Seriously, though, how am I supposed to top that? It's unfair."
I giggled with mirth. "What can I say, Bedhead? I'll always have you beat."
The way he was staring at me, with eyes full of so much longing and admiration—it took my breath away.
"I don't think that I've ever seen someone as beautiful as you. And I don't mean your physical appearance—though, I definitely appreciate that," he smirked, tracing idle patterns on my cheek. "I mean the way you smile to yourself when you think of something clever to say. The way your eyes sparkle when someone compliments you like you've never seen anything special about yourself before that moment. The way you subtly make sure everyone that you care about is alright when you think no one is watching—I love it all. I love you."
"Hitoshi," I choked, tears pricking my eyes. "I love you too."
Then we crashed back into each other like waves against the shore. Clothes were tugged and discarded in a flurry of dizzying passion and blinding need. We may never have this chance again. In the morning he would leave, back to the depths of hell and misguided selflessness, but for tonight he was mine, with me, carving out our own piece of heaven together.
His hands fiddled with the clasp of my bra and I giggled at his clumsiness. He grumbled indignantly.
"Here," I guided his hands around my rib cage, teaching his fingers where to go. "Let me help."
I was never a particularly shy girl. Self-doubt was a luxury that I did not have the time for. In the midst of fighting or something as simple as undressing in front of another, worrying about my capabilities, my appearance, it was of no use to me. But in that moment when the last article of clothing shielding my torso came loose and fell away, Hitoshi's awe-stricken gaze lingering on my (S/C) skin, I felt a swell of bashfulness.
Sensing my discomfit demeanour, Hitoshi seized my hand in his, staring intently into my eyes as he brought my knuckles to his lips and placed a gentle kiss. "When have you ever been one to doubt yourself? You're perfect."
"Easy for you to say. You're practically fully clothed," I whispered stubbornly.
With a grin like the Devil, Hitoshi retreated from my body and rested back on his heels. "If you wanted me to strip," he teased. "You should've just asked."
My eyes widened as he reached for the collar of his shirt and began dragging it, slowly, over his head. I couldn't pry my eyes away. No matter how many times I saw the sight of his bare chest, I would never get used to it. I hoped I would never get used to it.
Crawling back over my body, he smirked wickedly. "Better?"
"Much," I blushed, feeling his warm body pressing into my own.
Skin against skin, only a few more pesky layers were left between us. Our furiously beating hearts pounded in a synchronized rhythm against our chests. It was as if they were trying to reach each other, to break free from their constraints and become one.
As his kisses became more hungry, his caresses more fervent, I knew that his patience was wearing thin. So was mine. I gently pushed him away, regarding the stitching across his chest with pursed lips—kiss-swollen and red—and a scrutinizing gaze.
"If you're not careful, you'll pop your stitches," I told him, matter-of-factly.
"Are you questioning my doctor's credibility?"
I scoffed. "No. I'm questioning your durability."
"Well, if I tear them," he murmured huskily, trailing a line of open-mouthed kissed up my throat and along my jaw. "I think that I can convince her to fix them for me."
Sighing, I remarked, "Only if you're good."
Eyes sparkling with mischief, he retorted, "I will be."
His double meaning paired with the suggestive rolling of his hips had a flood of heat rushing south. Quick.
"Hitoshi," I moaned as he licked the shell of my ear. "I-I'm not on the pill."
He stopped. Pulling away slightly, he questioned, "What about a condom?"
"I don't exactly store a wealth of condoms in my nightstand drawer, Hitoshi."
He released an exasperated breath. "And why not?"
"Because this is not something that happens on a regular occasion, Asshole!"
Chuckling at my expense, he reached behind him. "Luckily for us, I happen to have one on me."
He produced the neat package from a pocket somewhere in the back of his pants, still grinning like a fool. I gaped.
"Why the hell do you have that?" I squealed. "More importantly, how the hell did you manage to keep it in there?"
He shrugged. "Part of the territory, I guess. Being a bad guy and all. Apparently, it's necessary to keep one on you at all times. 'To avoid sticky situations... if you catch my drift.' According to Dabi, anyways..."
Laughing despite myself, I shoved him away. Rolling off of the bed, I stood up and began to remove the last bit of clothing that remained on my body. Hitoshi watched.
Giving him a pointed look, I threw my pants in his face. "Getting off just by looking at me?"
"Yep."
I blushed at his blunt reply, not entirely expecting it. "Whatever. Just put the damn condom on!"
It didn't take long after that for us to fall back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and ragged breathing.
     "You know, I've never done this before..." Hitoshi confessed.
     "Really? I never would have guessed," I drawled sarcastically. "You? With your loving personality and extroverted nature? Say it ain't so."
     He nipped at my lips in retaliation. "Yeah, yeah. Like you're any better, Ms. Snarky."
     Kissing his collarbone, I shrugged. "Not really. I can't say that I have more experience than you. Not in the right way, at least..."
     Hitoshi tensed, realizing his mistake. "(Y/N), I'm sorry—"
     "Oh, shut up," I laughed. "I hate thinking about him. Especially in the middle of this! Talk about awkward."
     "Are you sure that you're okay with this? I know that you don't exactly have the best... memories." He pressed skeptically.
     Reaching up, I gently placed my hand over his cheek. Hitoshi kissed my palm. "Then make me forget about them," I whispered. "Give me a good memory to hold onto instead. I want this, Hitoshi."
     We stared at each other. Me, openly and honestly, and him, searching for any signs of distress. When it became evident that there was nothing to be found, he conceded. Giving me one last meaningful look, Hitoshi lined himself up with my entrance. He glanced to me for permission. Inhaling shakily, I nodded.
He pushed into me.
Screwing my eyes shut, I sank my teeth into his shoulder to muffle a cry. Hitoshi didn't move, though he was visibly shaking with the effort. I could tell by the way his body coiled and his face twisted that all he was feeling was pleasure.
"Shit," he cursed.
Feeling bold, I slowly wiggled my hips, eliciting a sharp moan from Hitoshi. The pain gradually began to recede.
"Y-you can move now," I panted.
Not wasting another second, Hitoshi rocked his own hips forward, sheathing himself fully inside of me. I gasped at the sensation.
"Hitoshi, m-more," I moaned. "Please."
At the sound of his first name leaving my parted lips in such an erotic way, his hips snapped forward again, creating a steady pace. Shaky breaths and gasping moans filled the air, drowned out only by the dull knock of the headboard against the wall. Hitoshi groaned, low and breathy, in my ear. It was nearly enough to send me over the edge.
Kissing and touching, this alien feeling was quickly becoming one of my favourites. Hitoshi gripped my thighs, pulling my legs up and around his hips. The change in position had stars bursting behind my eyes as we continued to move with unhindered desperation. There was a knot coiling in my stomach, an indescribable heat.
"Hitoshi," I moaned loudly.
A slew of curses left his mouth at my needy plea, thrusts becoming faster and more erratic. Nails digging into his back, toes curling, I choked as tears began blurring my vision. It was all too much—
Then suddenly it snapped.
The tension in my lower abdomen released, the heat washed over my body, singing every nerve with unbearable bliss. My body sang with energy as Hitoshi continued to move.
His own release appeared to follow soon after with a lustful call of my name. "(Y/N)..."
Actions slowly coming to a halt, he allowed himself to relax into my body. I cradled him against my chest, toying with the soft tufts of lavender protruding from his head at various angles. His arms wrapped protectively about my waist. I smiled.
"Your stitches seemed to hold up well."
Hitoshi chuckled, planting a lazy kiss against my sternum. "What can I say? I have the best doctor in town looking after me."
I rolled my eyes, carding my fingers through his hair. "Damn right, you do."
His fingers trailed up and down my spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I pulled up the covers.
"Hey, Hitoshi," I began sleepily.
He hummed in acknowledgement.
"When I wake up," I continued. "Will you be here?"
He didn't respond.
     "Hitoshi...?"
     Glancing to the boy on top of me, I sighed. He was already sleeping. Instead of waking him, I chose to bask in the moment and snuggle into his warmth while I still could. My nose nuzzled the crown of his head.
     If this is all I get, I thought wistfully. I'm going to enjoy every second that I have left.
     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning when I awoke, sunshine streaming in through the open window, a single tear slipped down my cheek. A chill passed over my bare form. I watched the curtains flutter against the light breeze with detached contentment.
     It was almost perfect.
     There was a note pressed into the palm of my hand and as I unravelled it I pulled the sheets tighter around my body, striving for the warmth that only Hitoshi could provide.

     (Y/N).
I'll start by saying that there's coffee on the counter. Hopefully, that will soothe your wrath... probably not...
Last night, you asked me if I'd be there when you woke up, but I couldn't bring myself to speak. We both knew the answer—and I didn't want to see you cry. I'm selfish, I know that.
     I'm sorry.

My fist clenched around the paper, crumpling it beyond recognition. A bitter laugh shook my frame.
     He was gone.