Fuschia

modulo!itadori yuji keeps seeing your face. 

no matter where he goes, no matter what he’s doing, for some unknown reason, he always sees you. 

it’s not always literal; sometimes it’s figurative. like the way that person orders their morning coffee at that cafe the two of you went to, liked to visit, or the way that person leans down to the local stray cat in the way that you would insist on doing every time you saw it or even the way someone sneezes and how he would always playfully tease you about it, much to your lighthearted chagrin. he’s not doing it on purpose, he muses to himself, it just happens like the way a fish knows to swim with the current in a river – naturally and on instinct.

the worst ones are when he actually sees you, in all your glory, standing there. just the sight of you alone is enough to have him winded as his heart stutters in a frail attempt to keep him alive. he swears you’re just as beautiful as the day you left him (or more aptly, when he made you leave him in a poor attempt to protect you from what he would become) or even more gorgeous if that is even humanly possible. 

sometimes, yuji wonders if the universe itself is conspiring against him every time he sees you in some sort of cosmic bid to draw out his sufferings. however, that thought is quickly extinguished when his gaze drifts back to you, some hidden magnetism bringing him back to you, and he can’t tear his eyes away from you.

when you suddenly turn towards his direction, he freezes for a second before pulling the hood of his jacket to better obscure his face. a part of him questions if you really did see him, but you don’t. instead you shake your head and walk away from the ghost of him.

a sigh escapes his lips. he thinks it’s good that you didn’t see him; it’s better for both of you – for him to stay in the shadows and far away from your sight. this way, you can move on more easily if he’s there like a waking reminder of everything that was lost and could have been (like how you are to him). 

fuck, even if by some miracle you were near enough to him for the two of you to have a conversation, he wouldn’t even know what to say. just the thought alone of having you there close enough to hear him, to touch, has his hands sweating and his heart palpitating. he’s sure his throat would close up and that he would fumble all over his words so badly that it would just be another wasted opportunity as you slip further and further away from him. (it’s what he deserves after all).

the moment when he lost you plays back in his head on repeat like some cursed film highlight. 

“i think we should break up.” 

you scoff, brushing his words off as you go back to absent-mindedly playing with his hands. “yeah, right. don’t joke around about stuff like that, yu. jokes are supposed to be funny.”

“i’m serious.” his tone is sharp and unfeeling, a far cry from the boy, now man, that you know and love. “i think we should stop seeing each other.”

the room’s temperature drops to zero the second the words leave his lips, as the two of you sit in silence processing them. it all fades into a blur of hot tears and pained shouts that make him wince every time he has to relive it in his mind – he tries to skip over it as best as he can, pressing fast forward on the metaphorical remote. that is, until he gets to your last words, which, for some reason, is where his mind refuses to skim past.

“hope you’re happy with this, yuji.” 

a small part of him, made brutally bitter by the cruel passage of time and all its consequences, doubts if this might have been a curse placed on him by you in some sort of backwards twisted way. though it leaves as fast as it comes when he realises that this is the one curse he wouldn’t mind because it meant that he was still tied to you in some sort of gnarled string of fate.

he’s not a paragon; he knows that. in all honesty, he slipped a few times during the first few years, where he ran back into your warm embrace, and he could forget the weight of the world that he’s been carrying without you as his north star to guide him home. for some reason, you accepted him each time, and he wants to ask why you would even spare him a glance after everything, but he learns very quickly to not question good things. and so he chooses to pretend for just a moment that everything is as it should be – with you in his arms.

however, yuji always makes sure to slip away before you wake up, a final kiss goodbye on your forehead before he disappears back into the dark corners of society. because after all, you don’t deserve to be with this undying monstrosity he’s doomed to be. you deserve the antithesis of everything that he’s now fated to become; someone who can grow old with you, who can be there for you completely without having to owe their life to some grander cause than loving you, and above all, someone who isn’t him.

he ‘s stopped having birthday celebrations. hell, he’s even stopped counting the years. what’s the point by now? there’s no difference between this year and the next and so forth, so no reason to look forward to them or even acknowledge them more than one might note the temporary shift in the breeze before turning your attention to something better. yuji wonders how you would feel about this, knowing he used to insist on cherishing every single moment he had with you, birthday included, as a marker of the time he had with you. 

anyway, if he still believed in birthday wishes, all his wishes would go to you.

most recently, the last time he saw your face was at hana’s funeral. 

he’s hidden at the back of the congregation, far away from all the other mourners, that is, until you walk in and decide to take a seat three rows in front of him. even with a veil over your face, he could pick you out of a line up blindfolded fifty times over and over again. it’s bad, he knows, but for some reason, his eyes always dart to your left ring finger, and a sick giddiness fills his chest momentarily when he realises that it’s empty before the familiar feeling of grief and self-loathing floods his veins again.

he thinks this will be the last funeral he’ll go to for a while.

occasionally, when he does sleep, he gets to dream of something good instead.

“so, do you think we’d be like them, yu?” your fingers are entwined with his as the two of you exit the cinema in high spirits after watching a movie you’ve been dying to see for ages. there’s a rogue kernel at the edge of your lips, and yuji reaches out to brush it away with the soft touch of his thumb, the gesture is like second nature to him, and you fight the blush that grows on your cheeks.

“like who?”

you giggle softly at his question, clearly amused by his slight confusion. “duh, like the characters in the movie that we just saw. do you think we’d find each other no matter what, even if time itself was against us?”

“of course, baby!” he nods his head so enthusiastically, absolutely resolute in his words, you’re a bit worried he might sprain his neck in his fervour. “i’d even fight time itself for you!”

“you mean you would fistfight the intangible concept of time for me?” you raise an eyebrow at him, an incredulous expression on your face at his words.

fortunately for you, your expression doesn’t deter him; in fact, it does the opposite – it spurs him on even more as he goes on to excitedly detail how he would defend you from the evil clutches of time and in the end, the two of you would ride off into the proverbial sunset in loving embrace. this earns him a kiss from you, one that he eagerly returns as you melt into each other.

the problem, he soon learns, is that life is not a movie, and worst of all, yuji is not the shining movie star who gets the girl in the end and saves the world. 

if it’s not a trip back to the past, he sometimes dreams of the future. in there, he sees a quiet life – maybe even a kid or two running around that look like the perfect mix of the two of you, but the most important thing is that you’re there with him, and in this world, nothing bad happens to you two. he didn’t leave; you stayed despite everything, including him, and best of all, you two were happy. 

perhaps that could have been another alternate timeline, where there are no curses, no sorcery, no greater calling – just you and him as normal people working your way through the growing pains of life together. a world where his dying moments are when he’s old and grey, surrounded by family and friends, with your last thoughts being of each other and the life you both got to fully share. 

the cruellest of them is when he questions if he could have had all that in this world, this lifetime, if only he were a little bit more selfish. but that’s the problem – itadori yuji doesn’t have a selfish bone in his body. he’d rather stab himself a hundred times over and cough out his bloody insides with every haggard breath if it meant that you were safe.

he loved you – no, he still loves you, more than you will ever know, and the truth of it is the reason that he had to let you go. unfortunately for him, this will be just a cross that he has to bear for the rest of his damned existence.

Was procrastinating on finishing a fic and ended up doing this instead of writing, and it got longer than the actual fic

If it’s Chrollo, you’re possibly one of these:

- A FOSD (Fellowship of the Shadow Daddies) member: You love shadow daddies and likely tell yourself he’s one. Your world’s Chrollo would kidnap you and keep you close and kabedon you with a cocky smirk. And he also wears leather gloves for the drama, has a knife strapped to his thigh for reasons only you know, and he’s like 15cm taller than canon, probably. You believe you can fix him, and frankly, you could fix that version.

- ‘I’m not a fan, I’m their kin!’ Truther: You didn’t expect Chrollo to become a favorite. But you saw this weird guy who’d like to be disconnected from his emotions, even tho he feels them so fiercely, who speaks in awkward declarations as his first language, who can’t put into words who he is and what he wants in life and what are his dreams, and you were like « ahhh, the early mid-life crisis rep I’ve always needed. ». He’s snuck up in your list only by virtue of being lost and confused and relatable in a very macabre and lonely way.

- The Complaining Connoisseur: You like psychology, complex expressions of humanity, and so… you decided he’s fertile grounds for your yapping. Thematically rich and narratively full of symbolism. He has everything to be your favorite, and to be one of the greatest fictional characters ever written, but you’re likely unsatisfied with how little Togashi has given you. Worry less, Chrollo’s masks are falling.

- The Artist: His overall aesthetics and vibes tickled your creative senses way before you dived into the Phantom Troupe lore. You don’t necessarily see him as a CILF (Character I’d like to Fuck) or as someone you relate to. He’s something much more confusing and comforting… He’s your muse. Conventionally beautiful, but everything that’s wrong about him, and all that’s missing, and all that suffering ad melancholy fuels your art. His inner world is on fire, his eyes are bottomless, and that fascinates you.

- The Enthusiast : You think he’s a great antagonist. Cool chara design, cool powers, interesting backstory, smart and quirky. Your list of favorite antagonists in medias may include: Johan Liebert, Anton Chigurh, The Noah Family, Sephiroth, Hannibal Lecter, Griffith, Morgana Pendragon, Sensui Shinobu, Tywin Lannister, Front Man/Hwang In Ho, Sakurazuka Seishirou, Aizen Sousuke, Uzuki Kei etc. You probably have the same tattoo as him somewhere on your arm or back.

- Villain-Fucker: You just like antagonist leaders, to be honest. Anyone slightly evil is a hommie in your book. You see them fight and cheer each time someone’s getting skewered, or when the hero’s ass-kicking is about to reach the nakama speech stage. Maybe you just enjoy morally dark characters, and find them fascinating to read/watch. Maybe evilness gets you hot and bothered. All’s fair.

If it’s Feitan, you’re possibly:

- ‘Call to the Mothership’ Receiver: You relate to him on an existential level. You get called a cold, grouchy, unfeeling bitch but in reality you’re just nerdy, practical and choleric and done with everyone’s shit. And you likely have some evil in you, but that’s okay, you haven’t been given a dark cloak and a spot in a criminal organization yet to be a societal problem. You read the news about « local grandpa loads a water gun with fart-scented soap water and pursues a band of teens » and you’re like fuck yeah I get him!

- Cute Aggressioner: The type of person who gets swatted for no reason by your grouchy cat and you’ll still smother it with kisses and pets 2 min later. Your cat growls at you and you just stare at it with puppy eyes, and call it « my emotional support murder-mittens wielder » in a baby voice. You saw this short man going on 30 be an international menace and you couldn’t think or see past the fact he’s cute, has eyebags and bed hair and likely sleeps through his meals. If you could possess Phinks or Chrollo to handfeed him, you would.

- FOSD member: sure, shadow daddies are tall and dark and handsome. But he already ticks two cases here, and you absolutely adore short kings. The image of a 5 ft alpha male cooking enemies up and wielding a sword-umbrella is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

- Comrade: You’re a short person who supports short people’s rage and wrongs.

- Brooding Seeker: You just think edgy hoes are cool. Your list of favorite characters include Sasuke Uchiha, Hiei, Bakugo Katsuki, Kujo Jotaro, Vegeta etc. Black and greys in the chara design is one must, and them looking like they could be thrown in a horror game and bite a demon’s face off is another.

yuji itadori was often described as loud, sometimes even rather childish, yet he always seemed to know the right thing to say. and even when he didn’t, he had that easygoing charm that drew everyone into his orbit. he was sunshine in the form of a boy with calloused hands.

you were the exact opposite.

despite your boyfriend being the most outgoing, loud person you knew, always having something to say, always able to blend into any crowd, you wished you could operate the way your boyfriend did. you were often described as quiet, and even peculiar at times, never knowing what to say. and when you finally gathered the fading courage to speak, it somehow always came out wrong. you were always met with blank stares and judgment-filled looks.

you laughed at all the wrong things. you somehow managed to trip over your own two feet. and you found yourself more often then not wanting to shrink away into the comfort of your own solitude.

how did she end up with him?

it’s something you’ve heard people say in passing. it’s something you’ve even wondered yourself at times.

but whenever you begin to express that doubt, you’re met with immediate denial. in fact, it’s one of the few times you ever see your goofy boyfriend become somber and quiet, his lips pressed into a thin, serious line.

“why do you keep saying that?” he asks softly. “seriously, why?”

his voice isn’t teasing this time.

“i’m with you because i like you. it’s really that simple. there’s no hidden catch or anything.”

his tone drops into a hushed reassurance.

“so don’t listen to people like that, okay?

his large hands immediately cradle your face, palms splayed across your cheeks as he presses a soft kiss against your temple, letting his body melt into yours.

yuji is always there to make sure you’re comfortable.

like when the two of you run into his old classmates from middle school. their boisterous voices call out across the street, and yuji immediately turns around, his hand settling on your shoulder.

his head tilts slightly, baby pink strands falling around his face and framing his sharp features. his eyes, deep pools of honey-brown, soften as they meet yours. a small smile appears, one he seems to save only for you.

“there’s no need to be shy,” he says gently. “they’re nice, baby.”

you crane your head, finally getting a look at the group behind him. they’re all broad shoulders, smug grins, and the exact kind of faces that make your stomach twist.

“are you sure, yuji? they look kinda…”

you trail off, trying to find the nicest possible way to phrase it, but there really isn’t one.

“mean.”

he glances back at them, making sure they aren’t paying attention before looking at you again.

“okay,” he admits with a sheepish smile. “maybe a little bit.”

you give him a look.

immediately, he brightens.

“but it’ll be okay. we gotta at least give them a chance.”

he looks down before holding out his pinky.

you intertwine yours with his without a blink of hesitation.

his smile widens, cheeks a delicate pink as he grins.

“pinky promise. everything’s gonna be okay."

and during the conversation, whenever their attention shifts toward you, yuji is always there, throwing you a small encouraging smile. a silent reminder that he’s right beside you.

when you and yuji first met, it was, very oddly, mundane.

you were sitting on a bench in the courtyard when a flash of pink hair came barreling through, coming to a halt at your feet. his hands appeared to be covered in dirt and scuff marks, probably from training, you imagined.

he spoke now, a little out of breath, clearly sheepish as he came to a stop like he hadn’t expected anyone to be there. “uh—hey… sorry,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck as if suddenly aware of himself. “can you unscrew the lid on this? i would, but my hands are dirty.”

he gave a small, airy laugh after saying it, like he was trying to make the whole thing feel less awkward. in his hand was a red metal bottle. it matched the red of his shoes, you thought faintly.

as you finally lifted your head to meet his gaze, you were greeted by amber eyes—soft, wide, unguarded. tanned skin. pink hair with brown peeking through his undercut. his eyes crinkled when he smiled, sweat still clinging lightly to his brow.

he was beautiful. almost angel-like, bathed in the sun’s radiant glow.

the moment you fully took him in, you felt the air leave your lungs, halted and stuck in place. somehow, the sight of him spoke directly to your heart. your mind became a haze, and you found yourself nauseous with a lovesick feeling.

with clammy palms and shaking nerves, your weak, hesitant hands twisted the cap off while an expectant yuji waited, watching you with open, patient curiosity that somehow made it worse.

when you finally handed him back the bottle and cap, your skin still felt like it was burning from his proximity.

“ah—thanks,” he said quickly, like he’d just remembered his manners, then hesitated for a second as if thinking. “uh, actually—can you hold the lid for me? i’ll go fill this up real fast. i really don’t want it getting dirty.”

you nodded before you could overthink it.

he sprinted off and was back in less than thirty seconds, sporting a wild grin and messy hair from the run. you watched him chug the water, his adam’s apple bobbing with every swallow. afterward, he brought the back of his sleeve up to wipe away the water dribbling down his chin.

you also noticed his hands were clean now.

he must have washed them in that little time span.

he’s quick.

when you handed him back the lid, he thanked you with such enthusiasm it was almost comparable to a little kid in a candy store. and he was completely genuine about it.

“seriously, thank you,” he said, almost too earnest, like he meant every syllable, which he did. that’s how yuji itadori was. there wasn’t a single malicious bone in his body. his heart was pure, and you were sure that if he were cut open, he’d bleed gold.

“i’m yuji itadori, by the way. before i forget—what’s your name?”

“y/n,” you replied, almost too quietly, but you saw the way his ears perked up like a puppy dog.

he flashed a boyish grin, followed by a quick wave like he was already comfortable talking to you. “nice to meet you, y/n! and hey, thanks again. i’ll see you around.”

you were sure he only meant it as something polite. something most people say and forget.

but it wasn’t.

after that, you started seeing him more often. and every time he spotted you, he’d call your name from a distance loudly and proudly, full of pure enthusiasm as he gave an excited wave.

sometimes after practice, he’d drift back toward the courtyard without really thinking about it, like something about it pulled him in, hoping to find you sitting on that bench. and when he did, he always sat with you.

he found everything about you softly endearing. and stupidly cute. you were adorable in his eyes.

inevitably, things soon blossomed into something more.

yuji was patient enough to get to know the real you, and somehow, he’d come a long way since then. you both had.

when you first met, during those early days of getting to know each other, you could barely maintain eye contact. the second his pupils met yours, and you noticed the way his lashes fluttered whenever he blinked, brushing gracefully against his skin, your eyes would dart elsewhere.

you often found fiddling with your hands and zoning in on your nail beds and cuticles far more interesting than looking at him.

he’d tilt his head, following wherever your gaze wandered.

“hey,” he’d say softly. “look at me.”

“why?” you asked, defensive without meaning to be.

“please.”

you’d only look at him for a brief second before a dazed smile painted his features.

really, he just wanted an excuse to drink in your face and pretty eyes.

yuji loved how shy you were.

he loved his shy girlfriend—his complete opposite in every way.

and even now, after all this time, you still squirm under his compliments, still turn red under his touch and gaze. the smallest things he does still send butterflies fluttering through your chest like it’s the first time all over again.

he never judged you.

never mocked you.

when you went out to eat, he always ordered for you. in public, his hand was always in yours or resting at the small of your back, steady and grounding. his attention never drifted—it always stayed on you.

yuji was like the sun, and you were the moon.

warmth and quiet reflection, two forces entirely different from one another yet chasing after each other, bright golden rays and a silky moonlight glow, a perfect contrast, softening one another in the sky.

yuji adored his shy girl.

he liked knowing he was one of the few people who got to see that unguarded side of you. that he was the only one who could pull a real, unfiltered laugh out of you.

and he especially loved the way he was always the one to kiss the embarrassment off your face.

when anxiety started creeping back in—thoughts turning inward, your face going red again—yuji was always there.

kissing your cheeks, your nose, and then finally your mouth. soft, incessant pecks of love scattered across your face.

his lips were warm against yours, his palms cradling your face like something precious. your hair caught gently between his fingers as he held you there, unhurried.

and when he pulled away, there was always that brief moment where you went quiet, a little dazed, like you had to come back to yourself again.

and he was always already stupidly smiling when you did. a big dopey grin plastered across his face.

masterlist - kofi - emergency comm info!

note : plz this is so self indulgent also peep naruhina in the banner i love them they’re so dear to me and i felt like they fit this fic so much. . . also bc naruto and yuji are literally so similar and hinata is acc me, like i said self indulgent forgive me 𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟 !

yuji x fem!reader // drabble // basically just fluff // everyone is 18+ // no use of y/n // yuji is so whipped // yuji confessing to you // took me a second to get this one out, I kept getting hung up on the dialogue and I've been a bit busy // ps yuji is the most perfect man to ever exist, ty that's all // whipped yuji series guys??

part one , part two

"You've been acting weird," you say as Yuji starts to pull his hand from yours.

"Weird? Me?" He shakes his head, quickly flashing you his boyish grin that says 'everything is totally fine'.

"Yes, weird, you." You put your hands on your hips with a little pout when he fully slips his hand from yours. "Stop bullshitting me, Yu. I know you."

"I-" He's suddenly at a complete loss for words—how the hell is he supposed to tell you he's in love with you? That's why he's been acting so weird lately, pulling away because he can hardly think straight whenever you're near him now. And the small touches, they all feel too much, too much when his heart races anytime your fingers intertwine with his.

And the thought of telling you all this, that he could lose you over his feelings? It already has him spiraling, scared to lose even a sliver of you.

"I… uh- I just…" His eyes dart past you as he puts a little distance between you two, and the movement alone leaves a pit forming in your stomach.

"If you don't want to be friends or something… You can just tell me."

"Wait- what? No," He shakes his head, hands instinctively pulling you into his chest before he can even think about it. His arms wrap tightly around you, muscles flexing as he holds you closer. "Never that."

"Then why are you acting like this?" You ask quietly, "One minute you're like this, holding me. And the next you're so… distant."

The guilt's already eating him alive, hearing the hurt in your voice. Knowing he's the reason you've been feeling like this, all because he's been too scared to tell you how he really feels.

"Honestly," He lets out a shaky breath, mumbling softly in your hair. "I'm scared… so damn scared."

"Of what?" You ask, lashes fluttering up at him. "It's just me."

He laughs softly, "Just you?" His eyes flick to your lips—fuck, he just wants to kiss you. "You say that like it's any easier."

"C'mon, Yu." You lean up, pressing a reassuring kiss to his cheek.

His cheeks heat, "S-shit, you can't do stuff like that."

"Like what?" You ask, leaning in again, pressing another quick kiss to his cheek. "This?"

He's left a stuttering mess, "y-yes, that," and before you have the chance to tease him any further, he blurts, "I'm just scared of losing you."

"Losing me?" Your smile falters, "You'll never lose me, Yu."

"Just… promise after, we can go back to normal," he looks down at you with pleading eyes, as if he needs to hear you say it, needing to hear he can take it all back, that it wouldn't change anything between the two of you. "And you'll forget I said anything at all?"

"Promise," you say, offering your pinky.

He laces his pinky with yours, taking a deep breath as he squeezes his eyes shut like he's bracing for impact. "Fuck, I'm so nervous." He lets out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just… every time I look at you, all I can think about is how pretty you are," he cups your face in his hands, thumbs gently brushing your cheeks, "what it would feel like to kiss you."

Slowly, he leans in, "it makes it really hard to think about anything else," he murmurs, stopping only inches from your face. "Truth is, I don't want to be your friend."

Yuji can't stop looking at your lips, and god, it doesn't help, it's been the only thing he's been able to think about for weeks—kissing you, holding you… touching you. And when you don't pull away, looking like you want to kiss him just as bad, he closes the distance.

"I want more with you." His lips brush over yours, "I want you."

Your pulse races as his lips press against yours, slow, almost timid, as he nips at your bottom lip, desperately wanting to know how you taste. And when your tongue slips past his, he can't help but stifle a moan into your mouth, letting himself get lost in you entirely.

"I love you," he murmurs against your lips.

When a moment passes, and you don't say anything back, he starts to pull away.

"I'm sorry if that's too soon-"

Your lips crash against his, hands threading through his pink hair as you pull him right back down to you, kissing him deeper because god, you need him to know you want him just as much. And if he had given you a moment, you'd tell him that a million times over.

"I love you too, Yu." You laugh softly, pulling away from the kiss. "You didn't even give me the chance to say it back."

He pouts, "You took so long, I thought you didn't feel the same."

Now you're full on giggling, "it was hardly even a second."

"And that's too long."

"You're just gonna have to learn how to be patient," you tease further, too caught up in how cute he looks when he's all pouty.

"That's impossible when I'm in love with such a pretty girl." his sudden rasp catches you off guard as he nips at your bottom lip. "Makes me not wanna be patient."

"Yuji-" Your breath catches as he trails kisses along your neck, sucking at your sensitive skin.

"Shh, baby…" The sudden petname has your knees feeling weak, "I need this- you… please."

You only manage a nod as he continues nipping at your skin, sucking purple marks until everyone knows you're his.

"I want everyone to know you're only mine," he trails his kisses back to your lips, stopping to admire how beautiful you look when you're all flustered and breathless.

"Only yours," you say back, between breaths.

"Promise?" he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Promise."

as always I appreciate all reblogs, comments, and likes <33

imagine doing that tiktok trend with yuji where you set your phone up, run as fast as you can like your life depends on it, and see how long it takes for your boyfriend to catch you.

and when you explain it to him he just shrugs with a gentle little smile and says, “sure, babe. sounds fun.” because your sweet boy would do anything you ask him to.

so with your phone propped up, you quickly hit the record button, then break into a sprint while yuji waits with his hands in his pockets, watching you closely and counting to ten like you told him to.

and you keep count in your head, too. to make sure he’s not cheating of course.

but it’s something about seeing you run from him that entices him in a way he doesn’t expect. makes a delicious anticipation bubble inside him, makes his jaw clench. his lips take to a smirk once he realizes that’s what you wanted, and then he takes a breath.

“ten.”

he takes off immediately, a little dirt kicked up in his absence from how powerfully his foot launched him into motion.

and you’re a mess of giggles as you run, heart beating against your ribcage because you know it won’t be long. you don’t bother looking back, you know you can’t outrun him.

you haven’t even blinked twice when a pair of strong arms snake themselves around your middle and he’s got you caged in the air with a low grunt, your backside pressed against his chest, feet kicking and flailing as you squeal between laughter for him to let you go. his hold only tightens further, biceps flexing with a little more effort when you squirm. his hands are locked on his forearms that bind you to him, ensuring you won’t be going anywhere.

you can feel the rapid thumping of his heartbeat, the heat of his body and it makes you pull your bottom lip under your teeth. there’s no need to wonder if this excited him as much as it did you, because you can feel it.

it’s exhilarating, to say the least. you’re completely out of breath, and just as you expected, he’d barely even made an effort.

the sharp of yuji’s canines gently nip at the shell of your ear to make your breath catch in that way he likes, his voice low and smoldering, yet sending a shiver down your spine when he whispers,

“got ya.”

.

.

.