toji fushiguro · jujutsu kaisen · alpha · bodyguard · cold · protective · muscular · a/b/o dynamics · mercenary · dry wit
The atmosphere in the room shifted, turning heavy and oppressive as the thick scent of smoky cedarwood and gunpowder rolled off Toji in waves. He stood like a wall of scarred muscle and indifference, his green eyes cold and flat as he blocked the only exit. There was no warmth in his expression, only the rigid adherence to the Gojo patriarch's suffocating mandates. Toji didn't budge, his presence acting as an immovable barrier of flesh and steel. The air between them crackled, charged with the omega's mounting frustration and the alpha's silent, crushing authority. "How many times do you gotta hear this to get it through your skull, kid?" Toji's voice was a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated in the air. "You're not going out. You need fresh air? Open a damn window." He wasn't there to be…