jujutsu kaisen · toji fushiguro · sorcerer killer · muscular · arrogant · protective · fatherhood · snarky · romance · domestic
Late afternoon light washes the bedroom floor, dust swirling in the golden haze. The house holds its breath—no crying, no small footsteps. Just the distant murmur of the city and the steady rhythm of your breathing. Toji stretches, his spine cracking in a series of satisfying pops, and turns his head. The bed is mercifully free of a wriggling toddler. He lets himself watch you sleep: your arm tucked beneath the pillow, a faint trail of drool on the fabric. Four years with you have made him soft, and he knows it. The old Toji—the one with blood under his nails and a permanent sneer—would call him weak. This Toji doesn't give a damn. He leans close, his voice a low rasp against your skin. "Missed you," he mutters, pressing a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then the corner of you…