#wryinter

You’re coming home from a night out with Maki, Nobara, and Shoko.

The streets were alive, music and chatter buzzing around you like static.

You kick your heels off at the door and walk towards the kitchen island, placing down your purse and keys.

Your apartment smells like city nights and your sharp vanilla perfume. You lean against the counter for a second, letting the tension from the night settle.

buzz.. buzz..

The sound comes from inside your purse, you reach in for your phone. The notification is from the group chat with the four of you in it.

It’s a seven second clip of Nobara missing a close-up basketball shot, the ball flying over the rim and bouncing into the night, and then it cuts off with Maki wheezing.

Shoko: LMFAOOOOO

Nobara: WHEN DID YOU RECORD THIS???

Maki: omfg my stomach hurts😭

You: nobara never pick up a basketball again💔

Nobara: BRO

Nobara: that’s so embarrassing pls delete ts

Maki: bye you look like ur about to cry at the end

You type out laughing emojis, but before you can hit send, a slow, rhythmic drip echoes from beneath the sink in-front of you.

A whine escapes as you let your head fall softly against the counter, then another drip like it’s taunting you. It’s been three days of ignoring it and placing towels under the leakage so it won’t puddle or flood

With a huff, you push off the counter and circle the kitchen island toward the sink. The cabinet door creaks as you open it, bending down to check the towel inside.

It’s not soaked, but it’s still damp, stubbornly clinging to the pipe. You reach down to swap it for a fresh one. But, maybe it’s time to finally call a worker.

You stand, stretching, and reach over the counter for your phone. But it’s way too late, no plumber is coming tonight, and the thought of a stranger wandering around your apartment this late makes your stomach tighten. No, thank you.

You bite your lip softly. Who can you call?

Scrolling through your contacts, your thumb hovers, lingering over names you know all too well.

You shouldn’t. Absolutely shouldn’t.

The drip falls again. So fuck it,

With a frustrated sigh, you tap his contact. Thumb hovering over the call button for a heartbeat longer.

You tell yourself it’s just a call to fix a sink.

The dial tone hums in your ear, a slight rush of adrenaline running through you.

You pace, holding the phone to your ear with your right hand, biting your thumb with your left. The sound of the ringing fills the quiet apartment, each tone making your chest thump a little faster.

One… two… three rings.

“Hello?”

His voice comes through low and rough, making you bite your thumb harder.

“Doll?”

The nickname brings you back to your senses,“W-what?”

You hear his soft amused laugh on the other end. “You called me, whatsup?”

You shift your weight, pacing a slow line across the kitchen. “Um… yeah. I need help.”

“With?”

There’s shuffling in the background, muffled voices overlapping like he’s somewhere busy.

“My sink is kinda broken,” you admit. “And I don’t know how to fix it.”

He laughs again, a little deeper this time. “So you need my help.”

“Don’t get cocky,” you shoot back. “You’re just the only person I can call right now.”

“Mhm.”

You hear a door open, then shut. The background noise fades, replaced by quiet. His voice comes back closer.

“Was thinkin’ you missed me.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “You’re funny.”

He groans low on the other end, like he actually likes that you said it. “Funny, huh? That’s all I get?”

“Better than nothing,” you reply. “Now stop flattering yourself. I called because I need help, not… whatever you’re thinking.”

“You sure about that?” he teases, smooth as always.

“Positive,” you snap, but your thumb twitches over the screen, resisting the urge to scroll through his texts from the past.

“I’ll be there in ten.” Now you hear shuffling, as if he’s going through his clothes. “don’t stress that pretty head of yours, mkay?”

Dragging the phone with you, you pace through the kitchen and into your room, then the bathroom.

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you. “Yeah, yeah,” you mutter under your breath.

Ten minutes. Enough time to get yourself together, enough time for your brain to remind you that calling him was both a terrible and brilliant idea.

“See you in a bit, doll”

“Mhm.” you hum before hanging up.

You strip off your clothes, walking into the shower and let the hot water run over you for a few minutes, shaking off the tension from the call.

When you dry off, you’re wearing shorts and an off-shoulder shirt. Your hair is slightly wet after drying, skin warm and fresh.

You stride back to the sink, glancing down at the damp towel still under the pipe.

Bending slightly, you pull it out, careful not to get more water on your hands, and toss it into the hamper.

The doorbell rings, sharp and insistent, making your heart skip a beat.

You brush your damp hair back, straighten your off-shoulder shirt, and saunter toward the door. Every step feels deliberate, teasing, like you’re daring him before he even steps inside.

You twist the knob and pull the door open.

He’s there, leaning casually against the frame. Dark blue jeans, belt with keys hanging off the loop, black graphic hoodie with the hood pulled over his head.

The first thing hits you before anything else is his scent. Cologne, wood, faint alcohol, as if he was at a party.

His eyes scan over you before making contact with yours. “Figured you’d make this harder than it needs to be.”

“Pshh, We’re here because my sink sucks.” you argue back.

He hums, the sound rumbling through the apartment. “Sure. Blame the sink.”

You twiddle your necklace between your fingers, absently twisting it around your thumb.

“You still wear that?”

“Only because it’s pretty,” you reply without looking up at him.

“Yeah?” he says, smirk audible. “Want another one?”

You roll your eyes, letting go of the necklace. “Shut up. Come inside, it’s freezing out there.”

.

.

.

He’s in his back under the sink, hoodie riding up slightly, dark blue jeans stretched over the curve of his hips, hands working up into the pipes.

His muscles flexing as he tightens and twists.

His hoodie lifts as his twists harder, abs just barely visible above his jeans, drawing your eyes before you even realize it.

“Hand me the pliers,” he calls.

You blink, caught off guard, fingers pausing on the tool in your hand. Eyes too busy tracing the line of his arms, the subtle shift of his shoulders.

“Uh… yeah, sure,” you manage, though your view lingers on him longer than necessary.

He grabs the pliers from your hand, purposely grazing his rather huge hand against yours, “Y’know this isn’t broken, s’just a lil leakage”

You cross your arms over your chest, slightly offended by his snarky mouth.“What are you trying to say?”

He chuckles before answering, “You could’ve fixed it yourself”

Before you can snap back, he slides out from under the sink and stands, then stretches, arms lifting over his head like he has no idea what he’s doing to you.

His hoodie rides up, v-line flashing like it looked at you first

Your gaze follows anyway, trailing up to his face. The scar at the corner of his mouth that you love, oh so much.

His sleeves are still shoved up to his elbows. forearms thick and veined, reminding you of-

“-You done starin’?” he grumbles.

Heat rushes straight to your face.

Oh my fuck.

He turns back to the sink, twisting the handle on, assuring that he fixed it correctly.

As he washes his hands, you try to recover. “Wasn’t staring. Just…”

He shuts the water off, drying his hands slowly with a napkin before turning back to you. “Just?”

“It was a quick glance,” you say, rolling your eyes. “You’re so full of yourself.”

He takes a step towards you, then another. Until he’s in close proximity to reach for you.

Your back brushes against the island edge before you realize there’s no more space behind you, or between you.

“Uh-huh,” He says flatly, cocking his head to the side, eyes searching yours, “You’re horrible at lying.”

You lift your chin anyway. “A you’re standing really close for someone who’s only doing me a favor.”

The corner of his mouth lifts, a mischievous smile.

“Favor,” he repeats, poking the inside of his mouth with his tongue. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”

“Yeah,” you reply, teasing back just a little, “I mean… isn’t that what this is?”

He nods his head, that smirk tugging harder at his scar. “Favor’s done. Now what, doll?”

You hate that he’s right. The sink is fixed, the tools forgotten on the counter, now all that’s left is him.

He slides a hand up to your jaw, thumb brushing softly along your cheek. You part your lips, about to fire off a petty remark. But he leans in closer, just enough that your noses nearly brush.

“What’s my reward?” he murmurs, low and deliberate.

“Not all favors get rewarded,” you shoot back, bratty and breathless, still holding his gaze.

A passive, amused smile spreads across his face.

“Let me help you with another favor,” he whispers, and before you can respond, he presses his lips to yours. Soft at first, then you melt into it, lips moving against his greedily.

When he pulls back just enough to breathe, he murmurs, “Still want this?”

“More.” you answer desperately quickl. Hand shooting out to grab his hoodie and tug him closer.

He doesn’t hesitate. The next kiss is hungry, he groans as his lips reach yours. Your tongues meet first, dancing over each other as his hands slide down to your waist.

With ease, he lifts you up, setting you on the counter without breaking the kiss. Your ass presses against the cool surface, but the heat from him represses it from every angle.

His hands move possessively along your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as you thread your fingers through his hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.

God, he’s infuriating. Every move, every touch, He seems to know precisely how to irritate you with every action, And yet… you don’t want him to stop.

So your body betrays you, leaning impossibly closer, wanting more, begging him to take the lead.

You can feel that scar at the corner of his mouth pressing against your lips with every tilt of your head, and for some ridiculous reason, it makes your heart thrum.

And so he does. You don’t realize it until you snap out of the trance.

His hand grazing the waistband of your shorts, thumb hooked possessively as he breaks the kiss just enough to command, “Take these off.”

His thumb drags along the waistband before tugging your shorts down to your knees. Wiggling your hips just enough to shimmy them off. They slide down your legs and land on the floor with a soft thud.

He trails kisses down your neck, leaving both soft nips and dark hickeys that bloom across your skin.

You whine under his touch, breath hitching, and he scoffs, voice rough. “Needy, aren’t you?”

“Shut u-,” he cuts you off by flicking your clit through the fabric. You accidentally whimper back at him through the pain.

He chuckles softly, then bites firmly between your collarbone and neck, cutting you off mid-word.

“F-fuck… Toji,” you gasp, tilting your head back, and he groans, sucking into the same spot, claiming it as his.

Your hands instinctively grip his hair, tugging him closer, wanting more despite the relation between you two.

Toji's lips curve into a smirk against your skin as he pulls back just enough to grab your shirt.

With a rough yank, he tugs it up and over your head, your arms lifting instinctively to let it slide free. He tosses it aside, the fabric landing in a heap on the kitchen floor near his discarded tools from fixing the pipe.

He surges back up and presses his tongue past your lips to take every inch of your mouth in a forceful, deep kiss.

As he devours you, his hand slides down your body, rough palm grazing over your bra before dipping lower.

His middle and ring fingers press against the damp fabric of your underwear, right at the growing wet spot between your thighs. He rubs slow circles there, feeling the heat radiating from your cunt.

"All this from some kisses?" he growls against your lips, his voice husky and teasing.

You arch into his touch, a bratty whine escaping as you grind your hips softly against his fingers, chasing the friction.

"If you weren't so damn cocky about it, it'd be more," you retort, your body betraying you with moisture seeping through the thin fabric.

He chuckles, a dark rumble in his chest. He breaks the kiss and trails his mouth downward.

His lips press between your tits, tongue flicking out to tease the swell of flesh above your bra. He nips at the skin there, hard enough to leave a mark, before moving lower. Kisses pepper your stomach, his bottom lip scraping deliciously as he licks a stripe just above your navel.

Instinctively you lay back flat against the island top. Your bare skin hits the cold surface making you gasp into a arch.

Your legs spread wider for him, inviting. But he smirks up at you from between your thighs.

He hooks his fingers into the band of your underwear but doesn't pull them down.

Instead, he places his mouth right over the damp slot. His tongue flattens against the fabric, lapping at your pussy through the barrier.

The pressure is maddening, his fingers join in, rubbing firm circles over your clit while his mouth sucks and licks, soaking the material even more.

"Toji- fuck, just take them off," you whine, hips bucking up toward his face, while your hands fist in his hair again. But he only presses harder, his free hand pinning your thigh over his shoulder, keeping you spread at his mercy.

"Mm-mmn," he murmurs, voice muffled against you. "I wanna feel you squirm first. Beg for it, fuckin’ brat."

His fingers slip under the side now, just the tips brushing your bare folds, teasing your entrance.

He laps at the soaked fabric again, his tongue pressing hard enough to make you whimper, but it's not enough.

"C’mon, if you're gonna play plumber, at least fix this ache properly," you taunt, voice breathy but sharp, fingers yanking his hair harder to pull him closer.

He lifts his head, eyes narrowing with that possessive gleam, a smirk twisting his lips. "Keep talkin’ shit, doll. See where that gets you."

Without warning, he hooks his fingers into your underwear and yanks them down your thighs in one swift motion, the cool air hitting your bare pussy and making you shiver.

He spreads your legs wide, you don’t notice him tossing the fabric into his back pocket before he throws your legs over his broad shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs to lock you in place.

His mouth dives back in, tongue thrusting deep into your folds, fucking you with it while his thumb circles your clit roughly.

"Oh my g- Toji!" you gasp, the position keeping you open.

Your hands claw at the counter, body arching as pleasure coils tight in your core. But even as you moan, you can't help the bratty edge, "Mm, you can do better than that."

His chuckle vibrates against your pussy, and he pulls back just to spit directly onto your clit, the warm saliva mixing with your wetness before he slaps your thigh hard, the sting blooming red on your skin. "Bratty little thing. Beg for it, I'll edge you all night."

He sucks your clit into his mouth, teeth grazing it lightly, while two fingers plunge inside you, curling to hit that spot, making your moans sounding through the apartment.

You writhe, the pressure building fast, but your pride holds. "Make me," you hiss, even as your walls clench around his fingers.

He pumps them faster, free hand sliding up to slap your ass, the sharp smack! echoing in the kitchen.

The orgasm crashes over you without mercy, your body seizing as you try to close your legs, thighs trembling against his shoulders.

But Toji's grip tightens, prying them back open with brute force, holding you splayed as he finger-fucks you through it. "No hiding now, doll. Wanna hear you fuckin’ scream."

Waves of pleasure rip through you, your pussy gushing slick over his hand, but he doesn't stop, drawing out every shudder until you're a panting, moaning mess.

Finally, he eases his fingers out, licking them clean. Gaze never leaving yours.

"Not done with you yet." His voice is gravelly and scary, as he reaches up with one hand to unbuckle your bra.

The clasp snaps open effortlessly under his fingers, and he yanks the straps down your arms, freeing your tits to the air.

His other hand dives back between your legs, two fingers sliding into your still-pulsing pussy, thrusting slow and deep.

“W-wait, Toji”

You arch, nipples hardening as he leans in, mouth feeding onto one breast. “Hm?” he hums against your chest.

He sucks hard, his teeth nibbling the tender flesh as his tongue swirls around the peak.

His fingers curve once again inside you, pumping steadily, building that fire again ignoring how sensitive you are.

"Toji- I can’t, too much." you whine, but your hips roll into his hand, chasing it.

He switches to your other tit, sucking and biting, leaving wet marks across your skin. "Take it, doll. Cum for me again."

The dual assault has you spiraling, breaths coming in heavy gasps, chest heaving as overstimulation makes every touch electric.

His thumb grinds your clit ferociously. a few seconds later, and you shatter once more, cunt creaming thickly around his fingers, coating his hand as you cry out, body quaking.

Heavy breathing fills the space between you, your chest rising and falling rapidly, limbs limp against the counter.

Toji pulls his fingers free, sucking them with a satisfied hum. "I'm still not done," he growls, eyes dark with hunger.

"W-what?" you stammer, voice wrecked, body already twitching from the overload. "Toji, I can't-" He cuts you off by scooping you up, pulling you off the edge of the counter into his arms.

His mouth crashes against yours in a bruising kiss, tongue dominating as he walks you toward the living room, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

The taste of yourself lingers on his lips, making the kiss filthy and possessive.

He reaches the couch and lays you on your back, the cushions soft and slightly warm under you.

Kneeling between your spread legs, he unbuckles his belt with a quick motion, the metal clinking.

He shoves his jeans and boxers down just enough, his veiny, thick cock springing free—heavy and throbbing, pre-cum beading at the tip.

"Toji—" you start, eyes widening at the sight, a mix of nerves and want flooding you.

"You're gonna take it like the fuckin' brat you are," he interrupts, voice rough as he grabs your ankles, throwing your legs over his shoulders again.

He lines up, the fat head of his cock nudging your entrance, slick from your releases. With one hard thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, stretching your pussy around his girth.

You cry out, nails digging into his arms as he starts pounding into you, with enough force to break you.

His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head spin, while the other slaps your tit, the sting sending sparks straight to your core.

"That's it, doll—squeeze my cock," he grunts, leaning down to spit into your open mouth before sealing it with a messy kiss.

Each thrust slightly rocks the couch, the angle with your legs pinned letting him hit deep.

He chokes you tighter on a particularly brutal drive, then releases to smack! your thigh.

Fuck, there’s gonna be bruises all over you tomorrow.

"You feel so good baby. All fuckin’ mine." he snarls between thrusts, possessive and unrelenting, fucking you toward another edge as your body yields completely.

Your mind fractures under the relentless rut he’s created. Words tumble from your lips in a incoherent babble, half-formed pleas and gasps that make no sense even to you.

He laughs low and cruel, the sound vibrating through his chest as he pins your legs higher over his shoulders, folding you in half so his thick cock can spear even deeper.

"Listen to yourself, doll," he growls, his dark eyes locking onto your teary ones, “Fuckin’ cockslut.” His hand tightens around your throat again, just enough to put pressure on the sides.

He grinds his hips in a slow, steady pace, the tip of his dick grinding against your sweet spot sending electric jolts straight to your clit.

You clench against him chasing the high, a tear rolling down your cheek. “Mmpf- Toji p-please,”

You didn’t even know what you were asking for, pleasure fully corrupting your mind.

"Begging like a desperate little slut," he sneers in that mean, mocking tone. Only making you clench harder around him.

The chokehold squeezes tighter, your vision blurring at the edges as he pulls back and slams in again.

Your pussy flutters wildly, stretched to its limit around his girth. Filthy juices leaking down soaking the cushions beneath you.

He smiles, releasing your throat for a split second to deliver a sharp shmack! to your left tit, the sting blooming hot and immediate. You yelp, arching into it even as tears prick your eyes.

Your nails rake down his back, leaving hot red trails across his scarred skin.

He slaps the right one harder, the crack echoing in the room, your nipple hardening painfully under the abuse. "Keep scratchin’, and I'll tie your hands behind your back." His voice rough with lust.

He leans down, his breath hot against your ear, possessive words dripping like venom. "Nothing to say, huh? gonna fuck you raw until you forget how to talk back."

Each thrust fucks you dumber, your thoughts dissolving into nothing but the obscene squelch of your cunt taking his full length.

You can't hold it anymore. The pressure building up then snaps, your body seizing as you squirt around his cock.

He groans at the feel of your release, his cock twitching inside you, but his eyes gleam with that dark hunger, like he's nowhere near done. "Good girl."