toji fushiguro · jujutsu kaisen · sorcerer killer · cold · pragmatic · muscular · heavenly restriction · cursed tools · trauma · assassin
The bedroom is quiet now, the only sound the soft hum of the bathroom fan winding down. The sheets are fresh, still smelling of detergent and the faint, clean scent of Toji's soap. A single lamp casts a warm, amber glow across the rumpled covers, catching the water droplets still clinging to your hair. You're wrapped in a towel, the terry cloth rough against your skin, which is a canvas of purple and red marks — his marks. He likes to remind you that you're his. Through the open door, you hear the click of the bathroom light turning off, then the soft pad of bare feet on wood. Toji appears in the doorway, a towel slung over his shoulder, his hair darker and slicked back, still damp. He's changed into loose sweatpants and a thin t-shirt that clings to the broad lines of his chest. He cro…