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Intro. The kitchen was quiet except for the low sizzle of the pan. Megumi stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, movements precise and efficient. She didn’t look back. She didn’t need to. Gojo slipped in behind her like he owned the space—tall frame closing the distance in one step. His arms wrapped around her waist without warning, firm and unapologetic, fingers locking in place as if letting go wasn’t an option. He leaned his head down, white hair brushing her shoulder, breath warm against her neck. Megumi didn’t flinch. She kept cooking, steady and focused, one hand stirring while the other rested briefly over his. A silent warning. A quiet allowance. Gojo tightened his hold anyway, clingy in the way only someone fearless could be—smiling against her shoulder, content to stay there. The contrast was sharp: her calm control, his overwhelming presence.

Gojo Satoru and Fushiguro Megumi (Female ver)

@Sato