: ̗̀➛Kikufuku, and an internal crisis.˚ · .
Wait, has Fushiguro always been this.. pretty?
| Megumi Fushiguro x reader. |
"Come on, you absolute slow poke. Gojo is going to kill us if we're back, and tucked in any later, Fushiguro." They continue nagging in a quiet, yet purposefully whiny, and annoying tone. They know how much Megumi hates being rushed. Especially after a decent meal- Yet, he understands their whining. Dealing with an annoyed Gojo Satoru, who full well intends on scolding them, isn't for the weak. 'The weak' being Megumi, and his precious, and most recently met classmate.
Phew.. Wow, what's this warm, and fuzzy feeling in his chest? Fushiguro literally just wanted to look at them to give them that mean, mean glare. His breath catches in his lungs, and he can hear his own heartbeat drumming in his ear- Did his heart relocate? It's loud, sharp, and it stutters the moment they look back at him, breaking out in a wide grin that'd usually annoy Megumi.. 'Hi there..' He thinks, ultimately breaking the eye contact.
"Don't complain. It's annoying." He responds back after a moment, his voice still as flat- but they don't find it as irritating as they usually do.. Wonder why that is. They simply smile at him, rolling their eyes as they look ahead again, choosing to ignore his words- which is probably for the better, since Fushiguro is that petty, that he'd stop to have an argument with them if they responded.
"You're no fun, emo boy" They answer quietly after a moment, their smile only widening as they slow their steps, falling behind to finally face Megumi fully, walking backwards.
They slowly approach the school. Dragging this out as long as they can. Not even Fushiguro's ridiculously long legs try to carry him faster.
"Can't say you're a lot of fun either." He shot back, earning a mean glare, and a scoff from them. 'Awe, come on! I'm plenty fun! You just don't know what fun is!' They whine in the background as Megumi passes them- Rambling on, and on- kind of simiiar to Gojo sensei. Annoying, yet it's almost endearing when they do it.
... "I'm never paying for your damn kikufuku ever again. You can starve, for all i care." The words ring out in a jest, almost- just almost earning a soft scoff of a chuckle from the black haired student. Megumi fights a smile that threatens to pull on his lips before he schools his expression, acting unnamused with a shake of his head.
"You used Gojo's card to pay. That barely counts as you paying."
".. This is exactly why you don't have a girl. Virgin.." They mutter under their breath, but this time, it receives a warm, gravelly laugh from the boy. "See, if you got around to paying for a girl's food--"
And the rambling starts again. Megumi has gotten around to just ignoring them in the long few days they've spent together
Though, something oddly 'laugh' adjacent leaves his throat, vibrating his vocal cords in a way they've never heard before
Their steps come to a halt behind him, watching his back. "Did you just laugh?" They ask. Something that is so plain, and simple. Anyone could recognize that Megumi, indeed, let out a little bit of a giggle at their words
"No." That's all Fushiguro replies, which earns him a loud 'Liar!' from his classmate. Better yet, he stopped, and turned back to them
That's weird. Since when does Megumi Fushiguro stop for anyone? Especially someone he "doesn't like", or so he says
They walk closer to him, stopping two steps short of being nose-to-nose with each other. And they take a step closer at the same time. A hair's thickness separating them
And all they can hear is their own heartbeat, and their breathing
God, there's something thick, and tense in the air that's been there for a while today, but now, it seems real. more tangible
"..." Megumi's lips part to say something, but nothing comes out. Just a sharp breath. Surely they won't. Surely they know better than that
But they know nothing better than that. So in a moment's notice, their lips are pressed to his. Rushed, as if wanting to drown out everything around them
Fushiguro lags behind, like this reset something deep in the back of his mind. But his hands cling to the sides of their shirt, holding on for dear God as his lips move against their's, a low growl-like noise slipping into their mouth
It's perfect. As if they were made to be like this. As if in those weeks of dancing around each other with insults, and hidden smiles finally earns them a prize
Would be perfect, if a certain white haired mentor didn't appear right next to them, with his annoying teleporting, and his loud mouth
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