✧ SUMMARY : your life is quiet and uneventful until you hear noises in the alleyway by your apartment, and you can't help but poke your nose where it doesn't belong. but haven't you ever heard that curiosity killed the cat? except nobody mentions that the cat gets killed by the big bad wolf.
✧ INCLUDES : wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, violence, injuries, detailed descriptions of blood/injuries, societal inequalities, animalistic tendencies, past trauma in toji's case, eventual smut maybe, grumpy x sunshine trope, bickering, angst, fluff, slow burn, pining, jealousy, possessive behavior, overall toji being his brooding self !!
i. ONE :: WHAT DID THEY SAY ABOUT CURIOSITY AND THAT DAMN CAT?
when you stumble upon an angry wolf hybrid in your alleyway who has no intentions of getting close to you do you, a.) offer it food?, b.) try to talk to it?, or c.) all of the above?
ii. TWO :: SUFFOCATING WARMTH.
stranger danger has conveniently flown out the window now that you've decided to invite him inside. he seems angrier about it than you are.
iii. THREE :: THE SUBTLE ART OF PERSUASION.
toji has a lot to learn about you. he keeps making the mistake of underestimating your relentlessness.
iv. FOUR :: MELTING ICE.
it's scary, just how much difference a soft bed can make after a stone floor.
v. FIVE :: PUZZLE PIECES.
he worries about it. worries about how easily he's able to fall into place with you. worries about how ravenous he's becoming.
vi. SIX :: A COVETOUS SHADOW.
there is always something getting in the way. always something casting its darkness over the light. whether it’s his own selfish desires or something else—he doesn’t know.
thinking about reader who leaves jujutsu society after suguru defects and the tiny curse that always follows you around, always running around by your feet, always laying at the end of your bed, (always scaring away potential suiters, who yelp out when something invisible bites them). it’s small and relatively harmless so you let it stick around, well aware that if you exorcise it or try to chase it away, he might send a bigger one (or worse show up himself and you’re not really sure if you’d be able to chase him away).
except one day you wake up, and the curse has gone away by itself. you didn’t even hear it leave, and there’s no dust on your floor suggesting it might have been killed. your heart instantly drops, cause you know this means he’s gone too.
“people have this tendency to see me as an all-knowing figure with mystical powers. in reality, i'm just one man with two eyes and two ears. how can i possibly know everything that's happening in the fortress of meropide?”
MOZE X F!READER ﾉ fluff. innocent first meetings. moze’s past is mentioned. reader is also described as wearing something pink with one mention of ruffles! because of this, i will say this is just a tad bit selfship coded. my apologies ^^;
SUMMARY𓈒 in which an unfamiliar face catches moze’s attention soon after the trio pays a visit to the xianzhou luofu.
Moze doesn’t recall ever seeing you on the Luofu.
His work calls for him to remain hidden within the shadows— and by now, it was practically a given that he could recognize nearly every face on the ship within a few days. A one sided familiarity that he had grown used to, which is all the more reason why it takes him by surprise when he catches you— a stranger, casually chatting with Jiaoqiu.
He’s certain he would have remembered someone like you.
Something compels him to give you a proper name to recognize you with in the likely case that he crosses paths with you again, so he eventually settles on “the girl in pink that likes to talk with Jiaoqiu.”
After that day, he starts to see you more often. He’s slowly come to the realization that you can always be found talking to anyone, not just Jiaoqiu. You have a habit of speaking with your hands, animatedly waving them back and forth, and he also notes that your voice sounds gentle.
In the span of just an hour, you’ve already spoken to: a child that had gotten lost, Guanaifen (he notes that you seem to really enjoy talking to her along with Sushang), and even Diting.
But not him. Never him.
In fact, in the few days he’s had to grow fond of a complete stranger, he doesn’t recall you ever glancing in his direction even once. Not that you were supposed to- because as the infamous shadow guard of the Yaoqing, it goes without saying that you shouldn’t be able to notice him so easily.
“I’m sure it would help your restlessness quite a bit if you spoke to her,” Jiaoqiu smiles.
He shakes his head in response. “Striking a conversion with strangers doesn’t fall under my line of work.”
“Perhaps it would help you focus on your work, seeing as how you keep staring at her.”
The only reaction he gives him is a subtle furrow of his brows and a huff to pair with it (likely confused as to how he would even know of his occasional glances your way in the first place), but the foxian knows better than to assume he wouldn’t pounce on the given opportunity.
Years of working alongside him meant that he’s grown to understand the way Moze expresses himself, even if he’s never quite acted like this before.
Much to Moze’s misery, nearly a full week goes by until he sees you again. It’s already rather late in the evening when the mentioned ‘girl in pink that enjoys talking with Jiaoqiu everyone’ is now directly in front of him, weight shifted onto her knees. The pink frills he’s already committed to memory are softly bunched up in your hand as you lean further down to greet Diting again.
Being a shadow was what he knew best, and not being in the limelight is another thing he’s grown entirely accustomed to — his ‘work’ being composed of lurking in the darkness, marking enemies as prey, and most importantly- cleaning up the messes. The usual.
But when your eyes finally lock with his, and he’s hit with a look of such fondness for the first time in his life — he thinks being seen is quite nice. A sudden flash of a seemingly innocent curiosity takes possession of him the next second. To be so violently struck with the desire to know your name- hear it roll off your tongue, and learn everything else in relation to you.. though not because you’re his prey, but because of an unfamiliar reason he can’t quite pinpoint yet — bothers him a bit.
He’s broken out of his trance when the sweet look in your eyes switches to something resembling worry.
“Um— is it bad if I pet the puppy?”
There’s a brief moment of silence.
“No.”
“Oh.” The smile on your face returns. “Then were you wanting to pet the puppy too?”
He pauses before swallowing an oddly suffocating gulp (he makes a mental note that he should ask the doctor about this unfamiliar symptom later, lest something like this ends up hindering his strength in the future) and decides to take Jiaoqiu’s advice, nodding to your question and closing the distance to squat down with a low huff.
“I thought I was in trouble,” you laugh a bit, and it does nothing but solidify the creeping desire in his heart to stay close to you like this. Your laugh is airy, soft — only a bit different from how you typically sound with Jiaoqiu or the others, and he thinks hearing it again would in fact help him with his work. “I was wondering why the Great General’s guard would be looking my way.”
He adjusts his hood to better look at you, and the question slips before he even realizes. “You.. know of me?”
“Mhm, Mr. Moze. Or— Mr. Crow Feathered Weirdo,” you smile at him, “you have a pretty huge fan club. Did you know?”
He shakes his head.
One thing Moze has come to realize is that memories shape people into the way they are today, and that those very memories grow stronger with repeated experiences. In his case, what others would consider a bitter memory was nothing out of the ordinary to him. A guard whose life was made up of experiments, full of nothing but enduring and more enduring- all towards the hope of no longer being alone nor acknowledged as the orphan that had been abandoned in the wilderness by his village.. such a life holds little to no value. The vivid memory of the words he spoke falling on deaf ears is proof of exactly that.
Though this new memory doesn’t align with the rest.
You continue to pet Diting as you tell him about his fan club (apparently, they had recently snapped a photo of his phone case and considered this a great feat), gently scratching behind the dog’s ear and time starts to fly much faster than he would like; the two of you now walking side by side through the Luofu. He thinks his work could technically extend to walking a resident home and ensuring her safety, so he chalks it up to nothing beyond that.
But it only gets stranger after that.
He thinks about you afterwards in the comfort of his own bed — though he’s sure he would bump into you soon enough anyway, so he certainly should not be wasting his time reminiscing about such a short encounter with you. How your voice sounded in his head, in particular, doesn’t leave his mind. Only a few tosses and turns later, along with a frustrated grunt, he sits upright, the clock beside him now reading 1:37 AM.
A time he definitely shouldn’t be seeing nor perceiving, since he would normally be sound asleep by now. Perhaps, for the very first time since meeting him, Moze thinks Jiaoqiu’s advice may have actually worsened his symptoms.
fem reader. oral male receiving. blowjobs. shoe-humping. sunday likes control but gives it up quite easy at pleasure. ty to the person who sent this into my asks. petnames used; my dear, my angel. ( 2.5k words ). ₊ 𓂃 masterlist.
The steady tap of SUNDAY’s ring clad fingers against the desk in his office are steady. Yet they seem to echo loudly amidst the silence that settles around him. He’s been working for quite some time already and despite the way he’s all but finished his family duties for the day, he can’t seem to will himself to stand up just yet.
Well, you seem to be partly to blame for that.
He’s excused most of his staff to leave the mansion already, leaving him alone to ponder his thoughts and your fate. You’ve been quite well behaved afterall, and for that— Sunday thinks that maybe you should be rewarded.
He lets his elbow fall onto the arm of his chair with his next breath, and his head seems to rest onto his fist not a moment later as he leans back. Allowing himself a mere moment of relaxation… before it’s disturbed by a small whine from beneath his desk.
“Sunday, are you done yet?” Your voice is quiet from where you rest and it makes Sunday tilt his head down towards the sound, to look at you. You’re resting on your knees, kneeling between his spread thighs and he thinks it’s quite a captivating scene to see you in quite a state.
Your cheek is pressing against the bulge in his slacks, toying with his clothed cock and despite the way that’s all he’s allowed you for most of the day— you haven’t once complained nor tried for more. If anything, you seem quite content to litter him in kisses and gropes of your hands— but he did promise to give you what you want when he finished his duties.
He’s left you long enough, Sunday thinks.
So he opts to reply to your question, “Hm? Do you find yourself to be truly worthy of that, my dear?” Though the amber of his gaze seems to flicker with something twisted as he narrows it down at you, and it makes you shake as you rub your cheek against his bulge. Humming as you think.
“I do. I’ve been good.” You say honestly, and Sunday seems to appreciate your confidence.
“Indeed you have.”
His free hand that doesn’t support his head makes it way to hold your face as he admires you, fingers grazing along your cheeks as you lean into the touch. Your soft, little affectionate display makes Sunday smile as he watches. “So what is it that you truly want? Fret not, I shall see to it you receive your comeuppance. Your resilience has been quite admirable afterall.”
The cool press of his rings smooth along the warm surface of your cheek, and it makes your lashes flutter as you make a small attempt to push yourself closer. His question has left you more flustered than you’d like to admit… you thought what you were asking for was obvious but you know he’s always preferred to hear you say it
“I…” You begin but it seems to cut off quite quickly as you feel yourself grow shy, opting to nuzzle yourself into the bulge in Sunday’s slacks again as your eyes squeeze shut.
But he responds to your flustered reaction almost instantly as his fingers press beneath your chin, tilting you up to meet his gaze once more. “No, no… tell me.”
Your lips pout as Sunday looks over you, expectantly— though the expression you’re wearing appears to make him throb. You feel it beneath you.
“There’s no need to be ashamed, I only desire your enjoyment afterall.” He drawls convincingly, though the intoxicating look he’s giving you seems to bring you even closer rather than further away. “Nevertheless, i cannot allow you to proceed until I am truly aware of your desires.”
The air between you both feels thick as you struggle to take a breath, but the pleasurable push and pull of power that Sunday relishes in only makes something between your legs throb. You can almost feel the heat between your thighs begin to grow impatiently with every blink of the man over you.
“Can I put it in my mouth now? Please.” You finally hum, and you watch his wings flutter as you ask, almost in appreciation for your obedience as he offers you a gentle grin.
Still, Sunday leaves you without an answer for a few mere moments. Waiting until you’re restlessly pressing your weight between your knees and grumbling as you opt to wait for his permission. Ultimately, he gives it up to you. “Heh, I have no intention of denying you. I think you have earned that which you are due, or would you not agree?”
Your impatience shows quite quickly as your hands press through the intricate layers of Sunday’s clothes, pulling them back until you’re able to pull his slacks around his ankles. It doesn’t take you long before you finally reach to wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, and it’s almost instantly that you feel his appreciation for that as his breathing hitches.
He plays it off— tries to. “I am.. quite sure you shan’t waste the opportunity. Be sure to savour it, won’t you?” He takes a breath, knocking his thighs wider for you. “Afterall, I am quite fond of your efforts. Don’t you remember?”
“I remember.” Your response is quick, breathed across the already sensitive skin of Sunday’s cock and even the soft pressure alone makes him twitch — lower lip between his teeth as he looks at you. Admiring not only your obedience but your radiance as you lick your lips at the sight of him.
You don’t waste anymore time after that as you lean in to drool along the sensitive head and your hand pumps your spit along his cock with long, full strokes of your palm. You’re mesmerising to watch, almost like an angel or a dream as you press suckled, sweet kisses across the shaft— every touch of your lips making his wings flutter and tremble as they curl around his cheeks.
Sunday may bask in control, but it’s quite easy for him to suddenly relinquish it when it comes to you.
He feels himself sink back into his arm chair when you lean down to stretch your lips around the blunt head — humming around the weight of him as the sound vibrates through his cock until he almost whines. He almost forgets his sense of self completely around you. He’s no longer the renowned figure that he’s known as, he’s simply a lover— a lover who’s enjoying being taken care of for once.
Sunday’s already looking at you when your gaze lifts, and you send him a look through your lashes, suckling slowly around the sensitive glands of his cock as you do.
“Heh, s-seems I was wrong to keep you waiting so long, my angel.” It’s hardly been a few moments but he’s already breathing hard when you relax the muscles of your jaw, pushing his cock down the tight hug of your throat until you feel him twitch and throb on your tongue. “Though you seem to have no trouble making up for lost time.”
His voice is wound up tight and the way his thighs quiver makes you purr as you gag around him, your hands pressing and squeezing into his skin as you try to blink away the dampness that coats your lashes at the stretch.
Your efforts have gotten him in quite a state. Sunday’s lower lip is caught tight between his teeth as his gloved hands squeeze at the arms of his seat. His cheeks are flushed, though covered by his wings— as if by instinct, in an attempt to hide just how much of an effect you have on him. To have him crumbling so quickly is almost a talent of yours.
Though you can’t deny that seeing him in such a messy position, fuelled by his own lust is only making you needier, wetter as you feel the throb of your pussy begin to bother you for friction of it’s own. It only makes your efforts all the more justified, as if pining for another reward from your lover.
He always did pay you handsomely for your obedience.
Sunday gasps with your next moan around him, letting his hips follow another slow drag of your mouth. You knew already how sensitive he was — just the slightest brush of your fingertips along his thigh had him keening. Despite how polite and put together he came across to strangers, his devotion to you was quite remarkable.
“We… we are in no rush, my dear. One might mistake your efforts as you wanting this to end so soon.” He’s going to cum, that’s what he means. And the realisation makes the want beneath your skin spark, settling into your nerves as you rub your thighs together to ease your own restless need.
You feel Sunday shift when you pull off his cock with a wet pop, swirling your tongue along the swollen, sensitive head and you make sure to look at him before you’re pressing kisses along the sensitive glands again. Starting at the sides as you bat your eyelashes up at him.
“My apologies, Mr Sunday. I’ll be sure to take my time with you.”
The sound you pull from him next is pretty and quiet, almost a breathlessly-needy whimper when your jaw slackens and you sink down on him again. Despite your words, your actions seem to have an alterior motive, it makes something dull glow in Sunday’s gaze as he holds yours.
But in your own desperation, your hormone-fuelled state of mind you take whatever it is Sunday will give you in return. Even if it’s in the form of pressing his dress shoe between your thighs to let your hump and grind your hips against it. All while he taps his foot in tandem, to press the leather up against your clothed clit until your thighs shake and your throat squeezes around his cock as you choke.
“Hah, it seems you are quite skilled, my dear. I’ve gravely underestimated your devotion.” His teeth grit as he lets his head drop back and his palm rests gently on the back of your head. There’s no real weight to it, but you can tell he’s holding back when his fingers twitch. You can also tell that he doesn’t want you to stop with how his chest is heaving with every breath he takes.
Sunday’s pleasure is only heightened by the weight of you on his foot, grinding your pussy so shamelessly across his shoe as your movements dampen your underwear. You’re far too transfixed on sucking his cock that you don’t care that you’re getting yourself off on his shoe. If anything, it only makes you feel even better.
You hollow your cheeks as you stretch your lips deeper around him, the thick press of his cock along your airwaves giving you a delightful spin in your mind before you’re dragging your head back up. Every movement you make is messy and lewd as your spit catches on his silky skin, making the silver hairs around his pelvis damp enough to pool down his balls and soak into the fabric of the luxury arm chair beneath him.
“I must admit you are making quite the sinful display of m-me. It seems your efforts are not in vain.” He rasps as he watches you pull back to slurp at the head of his cock and you blink away tears to admire him. His jaw is slack, amber eyes blown out and heavy and his hair is mused— messy from where his own hands have been pushing through it as his bangs fall over his forehead.
You’re faring no better as your hips continue their pace— a slow sort of back and forth as he appears almost hypnotised by every moment. Throbbing in time with them as you mutter out a soft whine.
“It’s so good. I want more.” Your thighs tremble with your next particularly rough rock of your body, pressing the hard surface of his shoe into your clit as you almost choke on your next moan. It was nearly too much, but not enough all the same— yet you know Sunday isn’t ready to answer your pleas just yet. You’ve not given enough for it to be worthy of such relief afterall.
“And you shall receive it in due time, my angel. Your torment shan’t last much longer should you continue to be good for me. But I cannot allow you to give up prematurely.”
You take his cock back between your lips and let your tongue trace along the sensitive flesh and veins until his hips are twitching and he’s sinking himself deeper. His wings shake, and he mumbles out a curse as his gloved palm cups around the back of your neck.
You offer yourself another hump of your hips and Sunday offers you another press of his shoe in return. As if to satiate you for now.
“Without a doubt you will be rewarded for your patience. I a-assure you of that.”
You press closer until you feel his balls press underneath your chin and your eyes close, with your nose against his pelvis and so tight together that each time you bob your head you feel the spit drip down your skin.
Sunday groans before he’s wiping at the stray tear that falls down your cheeks, a movement that’s almost as soft as the moans that are falling from his lips. Yet the affectionate touch only makes your pussy tremble with your next needy grind down onto his shoe, followed by you swallowing him down again — as if to say thanks.
“Look at me, won’t you? I must admit, seeing you like t-this is a sight I can’t bear to miss.” You feel his cock throb and thicken against your tongue, as if emphasising his need to see you given how close he is— it’s almost cute. He’s twitching inside the tight give of your throat with a trembling grunt and a soft, dreamy groan.
But because Sunday asked, you look up, and it’s almost in an instant the way you need to pull back when you feel the first sudden rush of his cum on your tastebuds. You allow your lips to slurp and swallow around his throbbing tip as your tongue swirls around his pulsing veins, capturing as much of his load as you can as you carefully slow your movements.
The man above you however, is fucked out— hips twitching in time with your efforts as his wings all but curl completely around his face. He can only offer you whines and long drawls, his hands squeezing at the back of your neck as you wring the cum right out of him. His other hand almost shakes with how tightly he’s gripping his seat.
You only pull away when you hear him chuckle lowly, licking across your lower lip to clean yourself up before Sunday’s letting his head fall forward to meet your gaze. There’s a crack in the feathers that cover him, and it allows you to see the pink flush across his cheeks as he catches his breath.
They flutter as the corners of his lips curl into something quite pleased, and you feel his foot beneath you press into your clit again before he’s offering you his hand to take.
“Well, what was it you so required again, my dear? Fret not, I shall see to it that it is done, but I need only ask for your assistance in its completion this time.”
the two of you are usually exhausted by the time you get home. he's busy running a store and dealing with the after school volleyball training sessions almost every weekday, and you're working a full time job too.
still, the two of you keep it balanced -- you cook some nights, he cooks others, and maintaining the house is usually split between the two of you on weekends.
but you miss him, in more ways than one.
it starts off as a joke at first.
"this saturday?"
"mhm sure, this saturday."
but it carries on throughout the week until you catch yourself looking through your lingerie for a little too long on a Wednesday night, and he's leaving quiet, lingering kisses along your neck before leaving for work in the morning.
so you're not even surprised when he's running his hands over you on Friday night before you're both even in bed, kissing at your jawline and tugging at the edge of your shirt. his hand is already under your clothing when he feels the lace outline of familiar lingerie and it makes him pause.
"you've always known me a bit too well, you know that?"
you shrug, winking up at him. "we'll start tonight and end tomorrow morning, right?"
