cw: explicit smut, toji eats you out on the phone w/ shiu.
Toji’s got you spread out on the living room couch, one leg hooked over the backrest, the other pushed up and out by the iron grip of his forearm. Your shorts and panties are long gone—crumpled somewhere on the floor—and his broad shoulders keep you pinned open.
His phone buzzed on the coffee table. He didn’t even pause—just reached over with one lazy hand, thumbed it to speaker, and answered without lifting his head. “Yeah?” Voice rough, muffled against your pussy.
Shiu’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Yo, you busy? Got a job lead, need to talk details. You free to call?”
Toji dragged his tongue up slow circling your clit with the tip before sucking it into his mouth hard enough to make your back arch off the couch. You slapped a hand over your own mouth to muffle the whimper.
He pulled back just enough to speak, lips shiny with you, breath hot against your throbbing cunt. “Yeah,” he drawled casually, “I’m free. Just eatin’. What’s up?”
Shiu snorted on the other end. “Eatin’? This late? You order takeout or somethin’?” Toji’s tongue flicked out again lapping at your entrance before plunging inside, fucking you with slow, deep strokes. Your thighs trembled around his head, pussy soaking his face. “Somethin’ like that,” Toji muttered, voice thick, lips brushing your clit with every word. “Tastes perfect. Real fuckin’ good.”
You whined and despite your best efforts the sound carried. Shiu paused. “…You good, man? Sounds like you’re multitasking.”
Toji laughed as he sucked your clit again, hard, popping off with a wet sound that was obscene even over the phone. “Yeah,” he rasped, dragging his tongue flat up your slit one more time, slow enough to make your eyes roll back. “Just… enjoying my meal. Keep talkin’.”
Shiu sighed, clearly suspicious but too used to Toji’s bullshit to push. “Alright, whatever. So the job’s in Shibuya—client wants it quiet, double the pay if we wrap by Friday—”
Toji hummed like he was listening, but his mouth never stopped. One thick finger slid inside you—then two making your thighs squeeze around him harder. You were dripping down his chin, soaking the collar of his shirt. He didn’t care. Just kept eating like your pussy was the only thing on his mind while Shiu droned on about payout and timelines. “—you in or what?” Shiu finished.
Toji pulled back just long enough to answer, lips swollen, “Mhm,” he finally grunts into the phone, voice lazy. “Double’s good. Send me the location.”
He dives back in without missing a beat—tongue fucking into you deep while his thumb circles your clit in tight, relentless little strokes. Shiu keeps talking logistics—times, entry points, cleanup—none the wiser. Toji responds in short, gruff sentences, each one punctuated by another long lick or a slow suck that makes your hips buck against his face.
Then Shiu pauses. “Yo… what the hell are you eating over there? Sounds like it tastes fuckin’ good. You got some gourmet shit or what?”
Toji laughs against your pussy, “Yeah. Real fuckin’ good. Best meal I’ve had in a while.” You’re mortified and soaked and you feel like you about to fucking cum with Shiu on the phone. Shiu laughs. “Man, save some for me next time. Sounds like you’re enjoying the hell outta that.” He laughs slurping louder, “Nah, I ain’t sharing’.”
Toji’s thumb presses harder on your clit—once, twice—and you can’t hold it back anymore. A muffled moan slips past your fingers. Toji’s grip on your hip tightens in warning, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, he gets meaner—tongue plunging deeper, lips sealing around your clit and sucking hard. “Gotta go,” he mutters into the phone, voice rough. “Food’s gettin’ cold.”
He hangs up before Shiu can say another word, tossing the phone onto the couch like it’s nothing. Then both hands are on you—gripping your ass, spreading you wider, burying his face so deep you feel his nose pressed against you.
Tongue and fingers work in tandem—curling inside you while his mouth devours your clit. You come hard, screaming his name, thighs clamping around his head as you shake and gush against his tongue.
Toji doesn’t let up even after you come, thighs clamped around his ears and your whole body twitching. He cleans up every drop, long, dragging licks from your oversensitive entrance back up to your swollen bud. You can barely form words. Your hand’s still clamped over your mouth even though the call’s long dead, chest heaving, skin slick with sweat.
He crawls up your body, caging you in, lips brushing yours so you could taste yourself on him. “Shiu’s right,” he murmurs, “You do taste fuckin’ good.”
a/n: bro I’m actually becoming too obsessed w toji
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