Pretty - Yuji Itadori x Fem Reader
Made this a bit longer than I anticipated sooo, part 3 on Saturday~
Update: Read part 3 here!
“Yeah?” he whispers, his voice cracking slightly as he looks into your eyes. “You think so?”
You nod and he leans closer, he can’t help it. You’re right here in his arms, your pretty plush lips parted, so damn beautiful that his own lips are tingling, tingling to kiss you. Just a little closer and—
A car speeds by and honks at another and Yuji’s eyes fly open. Was he really about to kiss you in front of your spider-infested apartment building? That would definitely taint this perfect memory.
“I should—uh!” He clears his throat, face burning. “Do you want me to put you down? Or…” God, you sound like an idiot, he thinks to himself. Though the embarrassment still doesn’t stop him from talking. “Or I could carry you the whole way. I can if you want. It’s not far. I don’t mind.”
You laugh a little. “I’m good. I can walk,” you say, patting his chest. He reluctantly sets you down on the sidewalk, looking a little disappointed in himself for even asking.
But then you slide your hand down his muscular arm, wrapping your fingers gently around his bicep. You look up at him with that smile that makes him completely forget how to think. “Lead the way, my hero.”
He nods quickly, blushing like crazy, and you stuff the big wooden spoon in the back pocket of your jeans. God, you’re such a dork and he loves you for it.
“It’s about a twenty minute walk,” he says, leading the way but sort of dragging his feet. “Or like… five if you want me to carry you again.”
“Yuji,” you say with a giggle. “Are you looking for an excuse to pick me up again?”
“Huh? No! You—you just went through a traumatic experience and I—”
“I’m just messing with you,” you laugh, leaning into his arm. “If it’s that much faster then let’s do it.”
“Okay, yeah—if you’re sure,” he says, a grin lighting up his face before he can even think to stop it. He scoops you up in his arms again and hugs you against his broad chest. “Hold on tight, okay?”
You wrap your arms around him and he goes into a full sprint. It doesn’t seem to be exhausting for him at all. In his mind, he’s not even focused on the workout. He’s just so completely consumed with the thought of you.
God, this is literally a dream come true. She’s actually staying the night with me.
Wait. Is my apartment clean…? Did I leave a pile of dishes in the sink? Is there still that cup of instant ramen from two days ago? Oh god, is it growing mold?
He swiftly turns a corner, shoes skidding on the sidewalk, progressively getting more nervous.
Did I leave anything embarrassing out? Are my underwear on the floor? Oh FUCK, what if she sees the Yoruichi body pillow Nobara got me as a joke? Nononono…
“You good?” you ask, noticing the panic on his face.
“Great!” he says quickly, his voice coming out slightly strangled. “It’s just my concentration face. Making sure I don’t drop you.”
“Hm… okay,” you say skeptically, but you hold onto him tighter.
Can I somehow distract her while I shove everything in the closet?
When his apartment building comes into view, he slowly looks up, stomach sinking. “So…” his voice cracks slightly, “My place is kind of… I wasn’t expecting company.”
“My place is filled with spiders so my standards are on the floor,” you say with a laugh.
Good, because that’s where most of my stuff is too. On the damn floor.
He groans. “Right. Yeah, okay. Don’t judge me too hard?”
“Never,” you say, playfully scratching your fingers through his pink hair.
Even though your hand in his hair makes him feel like he’s on cloud nine, the walk up the stairs feels like he’s walking to his execution. He sets you down at his door and hesitantly unlocks it.
Please don’t let it be bad. Don’t let it be bad. God, why can’t I remember if it’s bad or not?
The tower of dishes in the sink is the first thing you notice when he opens the door. There are clothes on the floor and some clutter and trash, but it’s not like it’s an absolute dump. And at least the body pillow is mercifully hidden in his closet.
“It’s… cozy,” you say, stepping inside.
“You don’t have to do that.” He closes the door behind him, looking defeated. “I know it’s a mess. I swear it’s not usually this bad.”
He quickly starts gathering the clothes off the floor. “I was gonna do the dishes tonight,” he says, very embarrassed. “I’ve actually been a lot more responsible since I got my own place. It’s just—my focus has been on other things the last few days.”
“Like on styling your hair?” you ask teasingly.
“Uh—that’s not like the only thing but… yeah, I guess I have been spending more time on my hair than on housework.”
“Why the sudden interest?”
Because you called it pretty, rewired my brain, and now I’m basically Pavlov’s dog waiting for another compliment.
“Just… wanted to try something new,” he mumbles, tossing the pile of clothes he gathered into a laundry basket.
“Well, I love it,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Are you blushing? “You just look… like I said. It’s stunning.” You hesitate, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “Not to make it seem like I’m hitting on you or anything,” you laugh nervously.
He’s looking up at you, still crouched over the laundry basket, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. But then he puts on a slight grin and drags a hand through his hair, sweeping it back a little more. “I mean… that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
Your stomach does a full flip. How does he shift so quickly from awkward to so fucking HOT? “Oh…” You laugh nervously again. “Good to know.” You shuffle your feet, suddenly having no clue what to do with yourself. You point up at a sock on his ceiling fan. “That’s creative.”
He looks up and his smooth charm falls apart. “Oh god, that’s embarrassing,” he says with a humiliated groan. His hoodie rides up when he reaches for it, enough for you to see the trail of pink hair riding up his toned abdomen, which only makes you melt for him so much more. He yeets the sock into the laundry basket like it’s his mortal enemy.
“Okay, moving on from the disaster. Are you hungry?” he asks. “I can order pizza or something.”
“Pizza sounds good,” you say, cheeks still burning hot.
He’s so grateful for the subject change. He starts scrolling through his phone to find his usual pizza place. “You like pepperoni?” he asks.
“Yeah, pepperoni’s perfect.”
“Cool.” He starts putting in the order. “I’m gonna get two so we can have some for breakfast.”
You sit down on his couch and feel something dig in your hip. “Oh,” you say, tugging it out from under you and holding it up with an embarrassed laugh. “I forgot about my pocket spoon.”
“Pocket spoon,” he chuckles, looking up from his phone. “Every hero needs a signature weapon.”
“You were the hero. I was just the damsel with the wooden spoon.”
“Well you got the one on my shoulder so we’re both heroes,” he says with a smile as he finishes putting in the order. “Pizza will be here in like forty-five minutes. Wanna watch something while we wait? I don’t have a TV in the living room yet, but uh—” He scratches the back of his neck. “I’ve got one in my room if you want to watch there.”
Your heart skips a beat. “Oh, yeah. That’s fine.”
He leads you to his room. The bed is unmade and he immediately scrambles to straighten out the blankets. You look to the wall and there’s a large TV mounted with a gaming console hooked up underneath.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he says, patting the bed. Then he reaches down and blows your mind when he pulls his hoodie off. He’s wearing a fitted black shirt, and it would be impossible not to see the perfect definition of his muscles underneath. You already knew he was fit, and you’ve always found him attractive, but god, he’s had a serious glow up.
He flops down on the bed, remote in hand, completely oblivious to what he’s just done to your heart. “What’re you in the mood for?” he asks.
You’re just standing there, staring at him like a total weirdo.
He doesn’t even notice. He scrolls through the options. “Action? Horror? Comedy? I’ve got everything.”
“Action’s good,” you say breathily. You get next to him on the bed and lay back on the pillow.
The movie barely starts before there’s a knock at the door. “Huh? That was fast,” Yuji says, checking his phone. “I’ll be right back.”
He walks out the door and you take a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together. You’re suddenly so turned on, ever since he pulled his hoodie off. Is that really all it takes?
He comes back in the room with two pizza boxes, and they smell incredible, that perfect, warm, cheesy scent. Your stomach growls embarrassingly loud.
“Someone’s hungry,” he teases, setting the pizza boxes down on the bed.
“The spider trauma burnt a lot of calories, I guess,” you say with a little laugh.
“Poor thing. All that spider fighting,” he says, sitting on the bed and opening one of the boxes. He pulls out a slice and holds it towards you with a grin. “Want me to feed you?”
“Sure,” you say with a sultry smile, leaning forward and opening your mouth.
“I—wait, really?” He was clearly not expecting you to say yes. “I was just teasing, but I will if you want me to.”
“Ehh, well it depends actually,” you say, eyeing the slice. “Are you going to make airplane noises?”
“Do you want me to make airplane noises?”
“Then no airplane noises.” He waves the slice a little. “Come on, let me live out my hero fantasy.”
“Your hero fantasy involves feeding me pizza?” you ask, taking a bite.
“My hero fantasy involves a lot of things, actually,” he says thoughtfully, holding the slice of pizza to your lips. “Like…”
His hazy eyes meet yours, then his cheeks heat up and he seems to snap back to reality. “Actually, this is kinda weird, isn’t it? Do you just want to hold it yourself?”
“Backing out of your fantasy already?” you tease, but you take the pizza from his hand.
“I mean, it seemed a bit good in my head,” he says with a nervous smile, grabbing his own slice. “But then I was like ‘what am I doing?’” He takes a bite, shaking his head at himself. The movie is still playing but neither of you really care at this point.
“I thought it was cute,” you say, taking another bite.
He stops chewing and looks at you with wide eyes. “Cute?”
“Yeah, in kind of a dorky way. Not to say I’m not dorky too.”
“More cute than dorky,” you say, smiling at him over your pizza.
“...So you think I’m cute?” There’s a little blushing smirk on his face as he sets his pizza down on a paper plate.
“Of course I think you’re cute,” you say, acting like it’s not big news at all. “I’ve always thought so.”
“What else?” he asks, leaning forward a little.
“What else do you think about me?” he asks, and there’s something so intense and electric in his eyes now. “Besides cute.”
“You’re suddenly so forward,” you say with a breathy laugh, cheeks flushing hot. “What happened to the guy who was just panicking over feeding me pizza?”
“Hey, I didn’t panic,” he says, darting his eyes away for only half a second before bringing them right back to yours. “I’m just curious.”
You set your pizza down slowly, buying time. “I don’t know if I should say…”
“Please.” He scoots closer on his knees. “Nothing you say could possibly make things weird. We’re way past weird already. And I love it, by the way.”
You let out a heavy sigh. You’re really not sure how honest you should be. “I think you’re the sweetest person I know… and… I think you’re really attractive. Like, gorgeous actually. And…” You look away and shake your head, your face embarrassingly red. “God, this is embarrassing.”
He doesn’t even let you spiral. He brings both hands to your cheeks and pulls you in desperately, kissing you hard and messy. It surprises you so much you gasp into his mouth, and it only urges him on. He uses the opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips, tangling it with yours.
He brings his hands down to your waist as he breaks from your lips to kiss along your jawline. “You have no idea how much I think about you,” he says breathily. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat, heaving on your scent. “You’re the most beautiful girl I ever met and I can’t believe you’re staying the night with me,” he groans, fingers digging desperately into your waist. “You’re all I think about. You’re all I want.”
This is all happening so fast it’s making your head spin. Your hands, while having been clutching his shirt during that hungry kiss, trail down to his abdomen.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says, voice rough and hot against your neck. “I always want to know what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking…” Your fingers slide down to the waistband of his jeans. You’re so mesmerized by his body, so completely enamored with the heat of lips on your skin that you can barely think of anything else. “Is it too soon for…”
He stops kissing, then pulls back to look at you with wide eyes. It could never be too soon. He wants it so fucking badly, you have no idea. So badly he can’t even let himself believe that’s what you’re asking for.
“Too soon for…” he repeats hoarsely. “You want to… are you asking if we can—” he can’t seem to finish either. “Sex?” he forces himself to blurt out, chest heaving with excitement. “You mean sex?”
You nod and look up at him through your lashes, trying not to seem like you’re unbelievably nervous for his response. It’s not too hard, since your desire for him is severely overriding your nerves.
But he just stares at you in shock, mouth fallen open, and suddenly you think you’ve fucked everything up. “I mean, if you don’t want to it’s okay—”
“Oh god—no, come here.” His hands eagerly slide up under your shirt and you gasp. “I’ve been losing my mind wanting you. But—” His hands pause when they cup your bra. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” you say breathily, slipping your hands under his shirt in return and sliding them up his washboard abs.
He knows he should take his time, but his fingers are already tugging the hem of your shirt over your head, and his pupils dilate when he takes in the sight. He can’t fathom how the hell he thought you calling him stunning or gorgeous was the peak.
And as much as he desperately chased it, he can’t fathom how someone as beautiful as you could look at him with even a fraction of the awe he feels right now. You’re a goddess.
And he hasn’t even seen all of you yet. Not even close.
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