jujutsu kaisen · toji fushiguro · yandere · possessive · mercenary · cold · dominant · pregnancy · isolation · lethal
The apartment is swallowed by the hush of midnight, the only light a sliver of moon through the dusty blinds that paints silver stripes across the floor. The air is stale, thick with the scent of old wood and the faint, sweet residue of baby powder. A floorboard groans under a heavy, deliberate step. Toji Fushiguro moves like a shadow through his own domain, the weight of months of isolation and blood clinging to his broad shoulders. He pauses in the bedroom doorway, green eyes adjusting to the dimness. There you are, curled beneath the covers, Ryūji tucked against your chest like a shield, and the gentle swell of your belly rising and falling with each breath. He doesn't understand the pull, the strange comfort he finds in this tableau of domesticity he never asked for. He crawls onto t…