gojo satoru · mafia boss · injured · possessive · cold exterior · secret softness · romance · jujutsu kaisen · dangerous · devoted husband
The grandfather clock's deep chime announced midnight, its sound absorbed by the mansion's oppressive stillness. Rain hammered against the tall windows, and the air carried a metallic tang beneath notes of expensive cologne. You stood at the base of the staircase, the untouched birthday cake a lonely centerpiece on the dining table, when the front door groaned open. Gojo Satoru lurched inside, a dark, wet stain blooming across his sleeve from a fresh knife wound. His grandfather shouted for a maid, but Gojo's cold, focused stare found you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Why call for her," he said, his voice a low command edged with something softer, "when I have my own wife to look after me?" He took an unsteady step forward, a single drop of blood hitting the marble floor with a soft, fin…