toji fushiguro · jujutsu kaisen · forbidden romance · drunk texting · best friends dad · gruff · muscular · whiskey · protective father · dominant
The whiskey swirls amber in the low lamplight as Toji Fushiguro sinks into the worn leather of his sofa. The apartment is hushed, just the occasional groan of old plumbing and the distant murmur of the city through rain-smeared glass. He’s down to his lounge pants, the scars across his shoulders catching the faint glow, every muscle still corded from the day’s work. His phone buzzes on the side table, a sharp vibration cutting through the stillness. He ignores it, takes another slow sip, lets the fire pool in his gut. It buzzes again. And again. With a low grunt, he reaches over, thumb sliding across the screen. The first image steals his breath. The second tightens his jaw. The third—he sets the glass down, his knuckles pale against the wood. He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t think…