Toji Zenin Smut - Blog Posts

cw :: degradation + praise . choking . slapping . daddy kink

toji fucks you like he hates you.

obviously, he doesn’t, despite his sass, he loves you more than anything. but when your hips meet back against his in such a lewd manner, he can’t help but lose control.

“f- fuuuck, toji, please — “ you whine, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. he has you in missionary, a hand wrapped around your throat as his hips snapped into you at a ferocious pace. “pleasee, what? use yer words, ‘lil girl,” he mocks, a sick grin on his face. beads of sweat formed on his hairline, his tongue swiping across his scar.

“don’t stop, ‘m so close,” you cry out, your legs limp spread against the sheets. your gaze never strays from his. “nuh uh, hold that shit,” he growls, his hand tightening around your throat. “yer g’na cum with me, make a mess all over this cock, fuck, y’wanna be my messy girl, hm?”

your eyes roll to the back of your head and threaten to close from the overwhelming amount of pleasure toji was giving you. you quickly come to when he tauntingly slaps your cheek. gently, of course. “keep those fuckin’ eyes n’me, baby,” he stares down at you with half lidded eyes, “yeahhh, there you go. hi, angel.”

his thrusts become a little more sloppy now, his hands moving down to wrap around your waist, his cock reaching impossibly deeper. threatening to kiss your cervix. “toji—!” you cry, and he slaps your clit, the action making your body twitch. “tch, thought i taught you better than that,” he chides and shakes his head, “s’not my name right now, girl.”

you whine, and correct yourself. “daddy, please, need you t’fill me up, shiiit,” you begin to babble, it becoming a little more challenging to hold back the orgasm you were on the brink of. “thas a good girl, mhm,” he speaks lowly with a shit-eating grin stretched across his lips, “s’right. you wanna feel my load in you, hm? want daddy to stuff you full?”

you nod, eyes puffy. “yeah, yeah, wan’ it so bad,” you cry, and he nods. “since y’ asked so nicely,” he snickers, “hold onta me, girl,” and you immediately oblige, your wraps reaching up to wrap around his broad shoulders. his hips begin to stutter into you, and he finally slams into you with a moan of his own, spilling his load into you. lots of warm, long spurts of hot cum paint your inner walls white, and your ears ring.

your own orgasm has you spasming around him and he rests his sweaty forehead in the crook of your neck. “fuuck, milkin’ me dry, lil’ girl,” he groans, placing hot open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. “took me well, hm? did s’good.”

your lips curl up into a lazy smile, breathless pants leaving you as he just stares and admires you. ‘course he loves you, despite his body treating you like a mere dumpster for his loads. he presses a sweet kiss to your cheek.