when your boyfriend, boxer!yuji breaks the silence about his love life during a WIRED interview.
"VERY, VERY TAKEN." — ITADORI YUJI
PLOT. after years of keeping your relationship private, yuji decides to finally confirm to the entire internet that he is indeed very, very taken during WIRED's the web's most searched questions interview.
WARNINGS. fluff, lots of kissing, i don't really understand boxing hahaha, yuji is aged up to be in his mid-20s, established relationship, sneaking around, fem reader, mentions of potentially getting married, not proofread
CHARACTERS. ITADORI YUJI.
WC. 4.6k
masterlist
art creds :: angrymiloras on x
a/n: this one's for the lovely @blossybee whose birthday is today!! happy birthday, love, i hope you have the sweetest day, and i really hope this little fic is able to make you smile. thank you for reading my stories and for sticking around for so long. 🤍
Morning settled over the city in soft shades of blue and gold, sunlight only just beginning to spill between buildings. The roads were unusually forgiving for once, with only the occasional taxi humming past and the distant clatter of a delivery truck echoing somewhere down the block.
Parked beneath a row of trees just far enough from the hotel entrance to avoid unwanted attention, your car felt like its own little pocket of time, blissfully detached from the schedule waiting for the man occupying your passenger seat.
Yuji had been saying goodbye for the better part of ten minutes, and you were beginning to suspect he had no intention of actually leaving.
His lips found yours again with the same absent-minded ease they had all morning, his hand cupping your cheek as though he'd forgotten he'd kissed you less than thirty seconds ago.
He smiled into it before pulling back only far enough to rest his forehead against yours.
"I really have to go," he murmured, sounding painfully sincere despite making absolutely no effort to move away from you.
His thumb continued tracing lazy circles beneath your ear, completely undermining whatever determination he'd tried to put into the sentence, and when your eyes flicked toward the passenger door, he followed your gaze for all of half a second before looking back at you instead.
A laugh escaped before you could stop it, quiet enough that it stayed between the two of you.
"You say that, but I don't think I've actually seen you attempt to leave." You replied, unable to hide the grin tugging at your mouth
Yuji blinked once, glanced down at his own hand still comfortably wrapped around yours, then looked toward the untouched door handle.
"...Huh." The realization settled over him with exaggerated seriousness, and his brows knitted together.
"I guess I haven't."
"No, yet you've been announcing your departure every two minutes," you giggled, shaking your head as you brushed a flattened strand of pink hair away from his forehead.
"I don't think that's on purpose."
"Oh?"
"I think..." He paused, pretending to consider it with all the gravity of a man solving a complicated equation before his expression dissolved into a sheepish smile.
"...I think my body just doesn't want to cooperate."
"You poor thing. So tragic."
"It really is."
His face carried such exaggerated misery right up until he leaned forward to steal another kiss, smiling against your lips before he'd even finished it.
The sound of your laughter filled the car again, muffled by the space between you, and Yuji laughed too, his shoulders shaking.
"You. Are. Impossible," you whispered between each kiss, smoothing the collar of his hoodie where it had twisted sometime during the night.
"I've heard that."
"Usually from your manager?"
The mention of him earned exactly the reaction you'd expected as Yuji let out a long, defeated groan before dropping his head dramatically onto your shoulder, the full weight of him leaning against you as though the conversation alone had exhausted him.
His arms slipped loosely around your waist, completely content to remain there while the rest of the world continued moving without him.
"Don't even mention him this early," he mumbled into your shoulder.
"If Kondo finds out I wasn't in my room last night, he's gonna schedule even media training before breakfast just to punish me."
You couldn't help smiling into his hair.
"That's hardly a punishment."
"It is if you're famous." He groans into your jacket.
"Well, you chose this career. You also signed sponsorship contracts." You remind him teasingly.
"I chose boxing. And I didn't read half of them."
"...Yuji."
"I was excited and overwhelmed!"
Your hand came up to cover your face as another laugh escaped you, and when you peeked through your fingers, he was already smiling back at you with absolutely no embarrassment whatsoever.
He never tried to defend the more ridiculous parts of himself.
Outside, another handful of cars appeared on the road, pedestrians beginning to drift along the sidewalks with coffees in hand and headphones over their ears. The city was waking up, little by little, and with every passing minute the chances of someone recognizing the world's newest boxing champion only grew.
Your fingers found his jaw almost absentmindedly, brushing over the faint shadow where bruising had nearly disappeared after his last title defense.
His skin was warm beneath your touch, and he instinctively leaned into your hand, eyes slipping shut for a brief, contented second.
"So," you asked softly, "when do I get to steal you again?"
Yuji opened his eyes, and almost immediately you watched the guilt settle across his face.
He hated disappointing you, even when there wasn't anything to apologize for.
He sighed through his nose before leaning back against the seat, his head tipping toward the ceiling as though reading today's schedule off the upholstery.
"We've got roadwork at the gym first thing, then conditioning." He counted each item on his fingers without looking at them.
"Coach wants extra rounds on the pads after that because apparently my right hook's been getting lazy, then media training, then the sponsor shoot with Kensei Athletics, then there's a hospital visit with the kids this afternoon..."
He winced before even reaching the end of the list.
"...And Kondo booked dinner with the federation tonight." He finally looked back at you, offering the smallest, most apologetic smile.
"So... probably late."
"As always," you murmured with familiarity, the words carrying the easy acceptance, already having learned that loving a professional athlete also meant sharing him with cameras, coaches and calendars.
His shoulders slumped immediately.
"I'm sorry."
The apology came quietly and it almost disappeared beneath the hum of the air conditioning.
You reached over without thinking, taking his hand before he could withdraw into that unnecessary guilt of his, your thumb brushing over the calloused skin across his knuckles.
"Yuji. I wasn't complaining."
He looked up.
"I know..."
"No." You smiled gently. "I mean it. I knew what I was signing up for when you decided to go pro. You were amazing, and this was bound to happen and you deserve it."
Yuji inclines his head, not meeting your eyes as he remains unconvinced.
"Although you're exhausted, I know you're happy. And I happen to like seeing you happy."
At that, he meets your eyes as you watch his expression soften so completely that it made your chest ache.
"You never make this hard." He smiles.
"Maybe I should. Don't tempt me."
"I'd cry." He laughed under his breath before bringing your joined hands to his lips, pressing a slow kiss against your knuckles, lingering just long enough to make your heart squeeze.
"I'll make time," he promised quietly. "Even if it's just dinner. Or coffee. Or twenty minutes in a parking lot."
You smiled.
"We're getting pretty good at parking lots."
"We're professionals."
"I think professionals actually leave them eventually."
"...That's a good point."
You tilted your head toward the windshield where, sure enough, more people had begun appearing outside the hotel.
"You really should go before this street gets busy."
He looked at the passenger door with genuine consideration before letting out the most theatrical sigh you'd heard all week.
"I was hoping you'd argue." He jokes, as you shake your head at his antics.
He smiled so brightly it was almost unfair, then leaned across the center console one final time, cradling your face between both hands as he kissed you slowly, like he intended to carry the feeling with him through the rest of the day.
When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, smiling so softly that it was impossible not to smile back.
"I love you." The words slipped out with the same easy honesty.
"I love you too," you whispered, brushing your nose against his. "Now get out of my car before your manager realizes you're not in your room."
That, apparently, was finally enough motivation.
With the exaggerated reluctance of a child, Yuji reached into the back seat for his black hoodie, tugging it over his head before pulling a cap low across his forehead.
The familiar black mask disappeared over the lower half of his face next, transforming the smiling boyfriend beside you into the anonymous figure who could slip through a hotel lobby without immediately drawing a crowd.
His hand landed on the door handle before he stopped again, turning back with eyes full of unmistakable mischief, his free hand lowering the mask down.
"...One more?"
You stared at him for a long moment before breaking into another helpless smile.
"You are unbelievable." You complain with no serious bite, making him shrug.
"I've been told."
"I wonder by who."
"My very patient girlfriend."
"Formerly patient." You snark playfully at him, watching him pout.
"Still current girlfriend, though?"
You rolled your eyes so dramatically it made him laugh before leaning forward to give him one quick kiss.
"There. That's your final one."
Still grinning, he finally climbed out onto the quiet sidewalk. He shoved both hands into the pocket of his hoodie, glanced around to make sure no one was paying him much attention, then looked back through the passenger window.
Even with half his face hidden, you recognized the smile in his eyes immediately.
He lifted a hand in a small wave before disappearing toward the hotel entrance, and just before the revolving doors swallowed him whole, he looked back over his shoulder one last time, checking to see if you were still there.
You were.
By the time you made it to the office, the quiet intimacy of the morning already felt like it belonged to another lifetime.
Your mood was already on edge when you found yourself missing Yuji a little extra today, and now your inbox had reached triple digits before you'd even finished your first cup of coffee and two meetings had been added to your calendar without so much as asking.
You didn't mind it.
It was comfortably ordinary, a welcome contrast to the whirlwind that came with dating someone whose face seemed to be plastered on every billboard and sports magazine in the country.
"You survived Monday?" Maya asked as she wandered past your desk with a stack of folders balanced against her hip.
"Barely," you replied, not taking your eyes off the spreadsheet glowing on your monitor as you corrected a row of figures.
"Ask me again after lunch."
"I'll bring snacks if the answer's still no."
"Then I'm definitely saying no."
She laughed as she continued toward the conference room, tossing you a playful salute over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner.
A few minutes later someone else greeted you on their way to the printer, another colleague paused to ask whether you'd looked over the latest proposal yet.
The office carried on around you, busy without feeling chaotic, and before long you found yourself slipping back into the familiar routine.
Your fingers moved almost automatically across the keyboard, attention fixed on the report filling your screen as you rewrote an awkward paragraph for what felt like the fourth time.
Every now and then you reached for your coffee without looking, only to remember it had gone cold nearly an hour ago.
With a quiet sigh, you stretched your shoulders before absentmindedly reaching for your phone, intending to do nothing more than check the time.
A notification banner caught your eye before the lock screen had fully loaded.
WIRED uploaded a new video.
Ordinarily, you would've ignored it.
The internet was flooded with celebrity interviews these days, and while WIRED's autocomplete series was entertaining enough, it wasn't exactly something you'd drop everything to watch. You'd usually save it for the train ride home, or forget about it entirely after a long day at work.
Your thumb was already halfway to locking your phone again when the thumbnail finally loaded.
It took your brain exactly half a second to process the familiar pink hair hidden beneath a black cap.
Your eyes widened and you tapped the notification before you could stop yourself.
Yuji Itadori Answers the Web's Most Searched Questions | WIRED
The thumbnail showed Yuji holding the signature white autocomplete board with the biggest grin on his face, one eyebrow raised as though he'd already read something ridiculous before the cameras had even started rolling.
A laugh escaped under your breath, earning a curious glance from the coworker sitting opposite you.
"You okay?" he asked.
You looked up a little too quickly, instinctively locking your phone before the thumbnail could give away exactly what had stolen your attention.
"Hm? Oh—yeah." You cleared your throat, forcing your expression into something that resembled professionalism despite the smile already threatening to betray you. "Just... remembered something."
He accepted the explanation with an absent shrug before returning to whatever spreadsheet had held his attention a moment earlier, leaving you alone with the notification still glowing against your lock screen.
Your eyes immediately dropped back to it.
Yuji had told you he was doing interviews so that part wasn't surprising.
Ever since winning the championship belt three weeks ago, his calendar had become almost impossible to keep up with.
Every evening phone call seemed to begin with an apology because he'd spent the day bouncing between television studios, photoshoots, sponsor meetings and press conferences before finally collapsing into bed, usually still half awake enough to mumble that he missed you before falling asleep mid-conversation.
WIRED was just another interview.
But it wasn't the interview itself that caught your attention, it was the questions.
Your thumb hovered over the notification as your curiosity steadily grew, because if there was one thing you knew about WIRED's autocomplete series, it was that the questions came from the internet itself, built from whatever people had searched often enough to end up on that little white board.
You found yourself wondering what strangers wanted to know about your boyfriend.
You should wait.
You had work to finish, emails to reply to, and a meeting in less than forty minutes. The interview wasn't going anywhere, and there was absolutely no reason you couldn't watch it over lunch like a responsible adult.
You stared at the thumbnail for another few seconds anyway.
...Lunch was over an hour away.
Absolutely not.
Pushing your chair back as casually as you could manage, you stood and slipped your phone into your hand, smoothing the front of your blouse as your eyes instinctively drifted toward your manager's office.
The blinds were still half drawn, the door remained closed, and the rest of your team looked far too invested in their own screens to notice you quietly slipping away.
"I'm just running to the restroom," you called to Maya as she reappeared carrying yet another impossible stack of paperwork.
She barely looked up.
"Mhm."
You walked at a pace that you hoped looked entirely normal, resisting every urge to hurry until the restroom door finally swung shut behind you.
The moment it clicked closed, all pretense disappeared.
You practically speed-walked to the last stall, locked it behind you and lowered the toilet seat before sitting down, your excitement bubbling over into a grin that felt almost embarrassingly giddy.
"Please don't let anyone walk in," you muttered to yourself, already digging your earphones out of your pocket.
Your fingers fumbled just enough to make you huff impatiently before they finally connected, the familiar chime sounding in your ears.
The thumbnail filled your screen again.
Yuji smiled back at you from behind the white autocomplete board, completely unaware that somewhere across the city, his girlfriend was hiding in an office bathroom because she couldn't even wait until her lunch break to watch him answer questions from the internet.
Your thumb hovered over the play button for barely a second before pressing it.
The buffering circle spun for only a heartbeat before disappearing, replaced by the familiar white backdrop of the WIRED studio.
The set was exactly as you remembered from countless other interviews—minimalist, bright, nothing more than a chair, a camera, and a white board covered in white autocomplete strips.
It was designed to keep all attention on the person sitting in the middle of the frame.
Yuji looked almost painfully out of place beneath the studio lights, dressed in nothing more than a charcoal hoodie and faded jeans. His stylist had clearly tried their hardest with his hair and you smiled before he had even spoken.
"Hi," Yuji greeted, lifting a little wave toward the camera before immediately laughing under his breath. His shoulders relaxed as someone behind the lens greeted him back, and you watched that familiar nervous energy melt away the same way it always did whenever people smiled at him.
"I'm Yuji," he continued, shifting the white board onto his lap. "I'm a professional boxer, and today..." He glanced to the side to reread the cue card before grinning sheepishly. "...I'm answering the internet's most searched questions about me."
He paused for a moment, looking directly into the camera as he smiles.
"I hope everybody was nice."
A producer behind the camera laughed.
"I wouldn't count on it."
Yuji's smile faltered ever so slightly, his eyebrows lifting with genuine concern before he let out a tiny, defeated sigh.
"...Oh."
Your hand flew to your mouth before the laugh escaped, muffled behind your fingers as you leaned back. It had taken less than thirty seconds for him to remind you why interviewers adored him.
He never tried to be funny, he simply was charming.
"'Is Yuji Itadori..." Yuji reached up and peeled away the first strip, squinting at it with exaggerated concentration before reading it aloud.
"...actually a boxer?'"
His forehead creased immediately, and he looked off-camera with the most bewildered expression imaginable, as though he genuinely wasn't sure how to answer.
"I..." He blinked once before looking back toward the lens. "I really hope so."
Laughter rippled through the studio, warm and immediate, and Yuji couldn't help laughing along with them, scratching the back of his neck as though he'd embarrassed himself.
"I mean," he continued, still smiling, "I've been getting punched in the face for almost ten years now, so if I'm not a boxer..." He shrugged helplessly, his grin widening. "...I've made some really questionable life choices."
The producer laughed loud enough that it echoed slightly through the microphone.
"I think that's a safe yes."
"Okay, good." Yuji nodded with exaggerated relief before peeling away the next strip.
"'How tall is Yuji Itadori?'"
He frowned.
"Why does everyone ask this?" His eyes flicked toward someone off-camera, searching for an answer that clearly wasn't coming.
"Do I look short on television?"
A producer immediately answered.
"The internet says you're shorter than your official stats."
"What?" Yuji actually sat up straighter in his chair.
"I'm six foot three."
The producer laughed again. "People don't believe you."
Yuji looked absolutely devastated. "I've stood next to measuring tape."
He pointed toward the camera as though pleading his case before continuing, completely committed now.
"I slouch." He gestured toward himself.
You buried your face in your hand, your shoulders shaking with silent laughter as another employee wandered into the restroom outside your stall.
The sinks ran for a few moments and the paper towel dispenser whirred.
"'What weight class does Yuji Itadori fight in?'"
This time, his expression settled into something more thoughtful, and the athlete in him surfaced almost immediately.
"I'm a light heavyweight," he explained, resting one elbow against the arm of the chair as he spoke.
"So before every fight, there's a pretty strict schedule with nutrition, hydration, training... all the boring stuff people don't usually see."
He smiled knowingly.
"But the worst part isn't the training. It's the food."
The producer chuckled as Yuji sighed dramatically.
"I start dreaming about cheeseburgers three weeks before weigh-ins."
Your lips curved despite yourself because you know he was speaking the truth.
You'd once watched him spend twenty minutes describing, in painful detail, the first meal he planned to eat after making weight, only for him to order something completely different because he'd spotted garlic bread on the menu.
He peeled away another strip.
"'How hard can Yuji punch?'" He looked genuinely puzzled.
"...I don't know. I've never punched myself."
The producer snorted. "...Good. "I think that would've complicated things."
He looked back at the question again before smiling sheepishly.
"I guess...you'd have to ask the people I've fought." A tiny pause followed and his smile faded just enough for guilt to creep across his face.
"...Actually...Maybe don't." He rubbed the back of his neck.
The producer tilted their head.
"Why?"
Yuji shrugged.
"I don't think they'd have very nice things to say about me."
Another wave of laughter filled the studio, though Yuji only smiled bashfully, looking down at the board with pink creeping across the tips of his ears.
You couldn't stop smiling.
He was exactly the same person he'd been before the championship.
He reached for the next strip.
The tiniest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he'd even spoken, softer than any expression he'd worn so far, and suddenly you weren't watching the world champion anymore.
You were watching the man who'd kissed you goodbye in your car less than three hours earlier.
"'Is Yuji Itadori single?'"
He read the question quietly, almost fondly, before shaking his head without a second's hesitation.
"No." The answer easily and instinctively, and his smile only deepened as he looked back toward the camera.
"...Very, very taken."
Your heart forgot how to function.
Heat rushed into your cheeks so quickly that you pressed the back of your hand against them on instinct, staring at your phone with wide eyes as though he'd somehow managed to look directly at you through the screen.
You knew this was coming.
You'd talked about it.
Weeks ago, curled together on his couch after another exhausting press day, when somebody online had declared him the nation's boyfriend beneath yet another viral edit.
He'd frowned. "I don't like that."
You'd laughed then, nudging his shoulder with your own.
"You don't like being the internet's boyfriend?"
He'd looked at you as though the answer should've been obvious.
"I'm already somebody's boyfriend." You'd teased him for pouting over strangers on the internet, telling him he didn't owe anybody details about his private life, and he'd agreed almost immediately.
"I know." His thumb had absentmindedly traced circles over your wrist while he'd thought about it, his gaze fixed somewhere across the living room before quietly continuing.
"But...we've talked about getting married someday." He'd smiled. "I think people should probably know there's already someone in my life."
You remembered asking why it mattered and he had shrugged in simplicity.
"So people stop trying to find one."
The memory settled warmly in your chest as the interview continued.
Someone behind the camera spoke again, their curiosity clearly piqued now.
"So...not single."
Yuji smiled.
"No."
"You've got a girlfriend?"
"I do." The pride in those two words was so effortless that your eyes immediately stung. He simply sounded happy, not trying to show off or give the idea of a grand announcement.
You could almost hear the producer grin from the behind the camera as he personally asked the next questions.
"Who is Yuji Itadori dating?"
Yuji laughed softly, glancing down at the board before looking back toward the camera with a smile so impossibly fond that your heart melted all over again.
"I'm dating someone..." He paused briefly, the corners of his eyes crinkling as though just thinking about you made him happier. "...who is completely out of my league."
He laughed under his breath. "I honestly still don't know how I pulled that off."
You didn't even realize you were smiling until your cheeks began to ache.
The video continued playing in the corner of your screen, Yuji already reaching for the next autocomplete strip while the producers laughed at something else he'd said, but your attention had wandered completely.
Your thumb drifted almost absentmindedly toward the side button, freezing the frame on the exact moment he'd admitted, with an almost embarrassingly fond smile, that he was "very, very taken."
Click.
The screenshot landed in your gallery, and you stared at it for another second before laughing quietly to yourself.
"...You're unbelievable."
There wasn't a single polished expression on his face, completely devoid of his carefully practiced media smile or the charming grin meant for magazine covers.
It was simply your Yuji.
The same smile he wore every time you surprised him with his favorite coffee after training, or every time he caught you already waiting outside the arena after one of his fights.
You both had cherished those moments as it wasn't something the cameras had captured.
Your fingers were already opening your chat with him before your brain had a chance to argue.
The conversation looked exactly as it always did.
Voice notes he'd sent while walking into training because he'd forgotten what he'd wanted to tell you by the time he got home.
A blurry photo of a stray golden retriever he'd befriended outside the gym.
Your heart softened all over again.
You attached the screenshot.
A grin spread slowly across your face as your thumb hovered over the keyboard.
you are so unbelievably whipped 😭
You hit send before you could overthink it.
The message had barely left your phone when the familiar typing... indicator appeared.
You blinked.
"...He's using his phone?"
You glanced automatically toward the time in the corner of your screen.
He was between the training he mentioned earlier so he really wasn't supposed to be texting you right now.
The typing bubble disappeared.
Returned.
Disappeared again.
You could almost picture him.
Probably scrambling to get his boxing gloves off, stubbornly using his teeth because he didn't want to keep his phone down, completely oblivious to the increasingly impatient people around him.
Your phone buzzed.
Yuuujiii 🍪 guilty.
Another message appeared before you'd even opened the first.
Yuuujiii 🍪 absolutely whipped. no shame either.
Your laugh escaped before you could stop it, quiet enough that it echoed softly against the tiled walls of the restroom.
You shook your head as another notification slid onto the screen.
Yuuujiii 🍪 I thought I was being pretty subtle too.
You covered your mouth with one hand, shoulders trembling with silent laughter.
subtle??
You typed back quickly.
you smiled like they asked if you'd won the lottery
The typing bubble returned almost instantly.
Yuuujiii 🍪 ...i kinda did.
Your smile faltered as your face got warmer, watching him just saying things that made your heart fold in on itself as though they were the most ordinary observations in the world.
Another message arrived.
Yuuujiii 🍪 also...
The typing stopped for a moment.
Started again.
Yuuujiii 🍪 you called me whipped like it's an insult.
You raised an eyebrow, already smiling as your fingers hovered over the keyboard.
because it is supposed to be. A playful one.
Yuuujiii 🍪 not when it's for you.
You stared at the screen.
Then, despite every intention of teasing him again, you found yourself smiling like an idiot instead.
Your fingers rested against the keyboard before finally typing the only thing your embarrassingly full heart could manage.
you're too cute for this world yuu.
Three little dots appeared almost immediately.
Yuuujiii 🍪 then i guess you got lucky with me👀
Your forehead dropped gently against the cool stall door with a quiet groan, equal parts amused and hopelessly fond.
"...You're lucky you're cute," you murmured under your breath, smiling so widely it almost hurt.
As if he'd somehow heard you through a phone, another notification lit up your screen.
Yuuujiii 🍪 i know 💖
a/n: i hope you enjoyed this one, birthday girl 🫶
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