Chapter Text
“Naoya?” His name left your lips even before your mind could react to what it was doing, confused as to why you just passed the next head of the Zen’in Clan, who you also hadn’t seen in the 5 years since high school at your respective technical colleges, exiting a small bakery just outside of Kyoto.
Naoya’s gaze turned murderous as he went to swing his head back around, wondering who had the audacity to refer to him not only by his first name, but with no honorifics nonetheless. Eyes landing on your form standing in the doorway, his face quickly shifted from anger to indifference, with a hint of disgust. “Oh,” he deadpanned, “It’s just you.”
You stared at Naoya blankly, not knowing what response to give to him, to a statement like that, instead comparing the image you had of 17 year old Naoya in your mind with the current. 23 year old Naoya still had the same blonde hair with black tips, although he managed to discover the wonder of toner over the years. Instead of his traditional wear, he was dressed in a fitted black short sleeved shirt, a pair of dark grey jeans with a thin belt, and black high top boots. The latter half of puberty had done wonders for his physique; his shoulders broad and his waist slender, biceps slightly strained under the fabric of his sleeves, his jawline somehow becoming even sharper.
You still hadn't graced Naoya with any sort of response, caught like a deer in the headlights in front of him until a customer from the bakery tried to exit the door you had been blocking. Naoya roughly grabbed the top of your arm and dragged you away from the door into the sidewalk beside him. “Jesus, have you always been this fuckin’ stupid?”
Naoya’s appearance may have bloomed beautifully, but hearing him speak again grounded you. He was still the same misogynistic asshole from high school.
After coming to your senses, you ripped your arm from Naoya’s grasp, “No, but you’ve always been this much of a prick.”
Naoya chuckled slightly as a small yet maniacal grin painted his face. It had been a long while since someone spoke to him that way. Back in high school, you were the only female student who dared to go head to head with Naoya during the Goodwill Event, both verbally and physically.
When you were both 1st years at the Kyoto and Tokyo schools, you had heard rumors of some blonde heir to the Zen’in Clan who had a horrible personality and was quick to make remarks about how women jujutsu sorcerers were unnecessary. Naturally, you wanted to mark him for the event. Gojo and Geto, both in their 2nd year, had wildly different reactions to your conviction. Geto advised against it, knowing you could probably handle him mentally, but worried about the difference in your combat abilities, knowing Naoya would not hesitate to send you to a hospital or even worse. Gojo cheered the idea on, “Go beat that dickhead's face into the ground!”
Geto scolded him, but knew deep down they would be there to intervene if necessary.
You had lost. Anyone could have predicted it, a first generation jujutsu sorcerer versus the trained heir to a noble clan. However, Naoya wasn’t fully satisfied with the defeat. Physically he had caused you numerous injuries, but he couldn’t shut down that mouth of yours, the pride and spirit and spite that existed inside of you. It pissed him off.
In your 2nd year, you managed to take him down. Knowing what you already did about his fighting and technique from experiencing it yourself, plus texts exchanged with some of the Kyoto girls, plus training with a God-like high schooler gave you a better starting point. That, and because of the previous year, and because you’re a woman, Naoya stupidly let his guard down, which resulted in a win. There is an image of Naoya laying on the ground in front of you while you stand victorious over him that will be ingrained into your brain forever. The same could be said from Naoya’s perspective.
By the time your 3rd year came around, there was no real focus on the Goodwill Event. The Tokyo high school was still dealing with the repercussions of Geto's defection, and Naoya had to attend to important Zen’in business. That left each of you tied with one win and one loss.
As Naoya grew older and stronger and closer to becoming the next head, no one dared to speak out of turn around him, especially women, rightfully fearful of his actions (and their livelihoods if they were employed by the Zen’in Estate.)
In the present timeline, Naoya had grown bored, and often unconsciously wished for someone he could banter with, it’s more fun trying to break someone down when they fight back.
“You’d be disappointed if I changed though, wouldn’t ya?” Naoya mocked.
“I’m just disappointed you’re still breathing.” You crossed your arms, some of the petty-teenage-girl-in-high-school attitude returning.
Naoya shoved his hands in his front pockets and stepped closer to you, leaning his head down to your level, tilting it to the side, “Aw, don’t be like that, you can say you’re happy to see me again.”
You turned your eyes back to meet his gaze, and Naoya took this moment to study your features again for the first time in years. Your face had thinned out some, high cheekbones prominent, lips still rosy and full how he remembered them. Your hair was still the same color, but longer, he thought it made you look more mature.
“I would,” you paused, “If that was actually true.”
Keeping your eyes locked with Naoya’s you could see something turning behind his eyes, something vaguely dangerous, but enticing. Naoya saw in you no desire to back down from a fight, and however fortunate or unfortunate, you were both thinking the same thing.
Naoya absentmindedly bit his lower lip, letting his mouth hang open, “Come with me. We’re goin’ for a ride.”
Before you could even protest, Naoya grabbed your wrist and started dragging you back to the street, stumbling on your feet behind him. A few meters away sat a rather expensive looking motorcycle. It was sleek, all black, something you could have easily pegged as his.
Naoya let go of your wrist and you brought it up to your chest, soothing the skin with your other hand as he unlocked a helmet from the bike. Naoya turned and looked at you with his brows furrowed, then looked down at the helmet in his hands, then back up to you, and let out a resigned sigh through his nose. Wordless and irritated, Naoya placed the helmet into your hands. You looked at him confused and also shocked, “What are you going to wear?”
“Nothin’ I guess,” he complained, swinging one leg over the bike. “God forbid something would fuckin’ happen to you, I don’t really feel like dealing with Satoru.” You almost snorted at the comment, both amused at the fact Naoya still referred to Gojo by his first name, and being forced to remember Naoya’s typical nature, where he cared less about your safety and more about feeling the wrath of another man.
“Well don’t just fuckin’ stand there.”
You glared at Naoya but put the helmet on regardless, hopping onto the back of the bike, feeling your hands become clammy at the thought of wrapping them around Naoya’s waist like a girl on a first date.
Naoya started up the bike, the engine drowning out a “God, you women are so slow,” as he pulled out from the spot.
Outside of physical altercations, this is the closest you had ever been to the man, and there was something rewarding about being allowed to touch him this way, and something surprising about the fact he let you wrap your hands around him without checking if a knife was hidden in your sleeve first.
“Don’t fall off,” he said, like it was your job to stay on the bike and not his to drive it properly.
Naoya drove exactly how you would expect him to, fast, swerving in and out of lanes, getting dangerously close to other vehicles. Naoya clamped on the brakes hard after realizing he wouldn’t be able to beat the light, your body jolting forward into him.
Naoya turned his head over his shoulder and yelled over the noise, “Why are you even here anyways?”
“The higher ups sent me to an abandoned factory nearby to exorcise a curse, said my technique would be useful.” Naoya felt the shrug of your shoulders behind him and gave a small hum that you could barely register, not really interested in how things went.
As soon as the light changed, he took off again and you wrapped your arms tighter around his torso, spreading both hands apart so you could feel his toned muscles a little more, not caring if he caught on to what you were doing.
As he got further from the city the roads started to become windier and less populated, the sharp turns he was taking were more frightening than anything Naoya had ever done himself. Twenty minutes later you arrived at what you could only assume was the Zen’in Estate, Naoya driving around the back to a separate gate which began to slide open as the motorcycle grew closer.
He parked the bike, not bothering to help you off and all but gently removing the helmet from your head, causing your hair to stick and stand up in all different places. Naoya chuckled when he saw your disheveled state, always finding enjoyment in your inconveniences.
Naoya was oddly in a good mood, smiling and letting out small laughs, albeit at the expense of someone else, more than he had in weeks. But, before you could mistake any of this behavior for growth or softness, he turned to stand directly in front of you, bringing his hand up to your jaw and squeezing just enough to puff out your cheeks and lips.
“Listen to me, this ain’t Tokyo, yer on Zen’in property and ya need to remember yer place here as a stupid woman.” Naoya’s Kansai dialect always came out more when he spoke fast and irritated, which was usually most of the time. “If ya try any of yer bullshit here you’ll regret it.”
You wanted to rip your face from his grip, but decided to appease him for now, not wanting to ruin a chance at what you assumed was coming.
“Are we clear?”
“Yes Zen’in-san,” you replied, batting your eyelashes a few times.
Naoya was not amused, but took your response as one of understanding and started heading for what seemed to be a not frequently used wing of the estate. Before following him you took a second to close your eyes and take a deep breath, angry with yourself at just how much his little power play was starting to cause a reaction between your legs. You’ve had……better ideas…..than going along with fucking Kyoto’s most eligible misogynist, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t seen this coming since the time Naoya held a foot to your chest at the first Goodwill Event.
Instead of heading inside, he turned at the entrance to the structure, following a small stone path to the right which led around the side of the building covered lushly with trees and shrubs and types of plants and flowers you had never seen before.
You were starting to believe Naoya’s performance a few minutes ago was just an excuse for him to yell at you, because there was not a soul to be seen or heard anywhere on the part of the Zen’in lot you were currently in. You skipped a few steps to catch up to him, but still kept a few paces between the two of you.
The tall trees created a canopy over the stone path, and you wondered if all of the estate was covered with these almost secret gardens. Your eyes fell down from the trees onto Naoya’s back as he reached a clearing, and followed the path the rest of the way up a small set of stairs to the outer hall, taking a few more steps forward and sliding the doors open, looking back to you still at the foot of the steps.
“Hurry up,” Naoya barked and you obeyed, practically leaping into the room quietly closing the sliding door behind you.
The room was on the smaller side, nothing but a large bed adorned with white sheets and pillows sat in the middle with a few shelves here and there, mostly with extra blankets. Your back was turned to Naoya when he spoke.
“Get on yer knees.”
You turned around to face him. “Excuse me?”
“Are ya fuckin’ deaf, I said get on yer knees.”
Naoya stopped halfway with undoing his belt, running a hand through his hair, already severely irritated. “Don’t act stupid, you know exactly why we came here.”
Feigning innocence you finished closing the gap between the two of you, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck, letting your wrists cross and hang loose behind him. “C’mon Naoya-chan,” you purred while his face twitched like a short circuit. “Haven't you ever heard of setting the mood?”
Feeling like you had gained even an ounce of dominance over the man, you went to move your lips forward, just closing your eyes when strong fingers slithered their way up your neck to the back of your head. But instead of pushing your lips closer to him, he grabbed onto a chunk of your hair and yanked your neck back so hard you were almost certain it was going to be ripped from your body.
He leaned over your form, his slanted eyes met your wide ones as you let out a shaky breath. “I’m not interested in foreplay,” Naoya stated. “Do ya really think I’d allow you to kiss me?”
With your neck starting to ache you boldly replied, “I was hoping so, I don’t know of any better way to get you to shut the fuck up.”
The grin that erupted on your face was not amusing to Naoya in the slightest. He pulled your hair backwards, forcing you to stumble along with it, then roughly shoved you to your knees between him and the foot of the bed. He finished removing his belt while looking down at your face like he was going to eat you alive.
Neither of you would admit it, but the role of the brat was the best possible scenario for both parties. While Naoya had grown tired of women who would simply lay silent with their legs open, you purposefully poked and prodded certain buttons praying for the reactions he was giving. Could he be a little more gentle? Sure, but where's the fun in that?
You prayed that he couldn’t practically see your mouth watering as he pulled down his pants and underwear just enough for his dick to spring out. You cursed the Zen’in bloodline for giving such a perfect dick to someone like him, length exceeding girth just slightly, but also thanked them for not letting Naoya wield something ungodly large.
He grabbed you under the chin and raised you on your knees until the lower half of your body stood parallel with his. He backed you further against the bed frame with his legs, trapping you completely.
Excitement started to stir in your chest. Much like the feeling of being able to wrap your arms around Naoya’s waist, being the one allowed to suck off The Naoya Zen’in tricked your brain with all sorts of false superiority. You wanted it. You wanted to be the only one with his cock in your mouth. You wanted him to come undone above you.
Naoya switched his grip from under your chin to the top of your head, grabbing another handful of hair with his left hand and tilting your chin back. With the other, he brought the tip of his cock to your mouth and rested it on your bottom lip. Naoya’s stare went crazy when he saw you looking up at him with big, hopeful eyes, the first time you looked willing to please him.
He gathered up a wad of spit in his mouth and slowly let it drip down from his lips, landing perfectly on the head of his cock, mixing with the precum, excess running off down onto your lower lip.
“Suck it.”
You obliged, sinking forward and slowly taking as much of him as you could on the first pass. You swore you felt him shiver with pleasure as he entered you, tongue laying flat against the bottom of his cock, your saliva mixing with his own. The world slowed around Naoya for a second. For him, the sight of you below him starting to slowly move his dick in and out of those rosy lips was enough to count as the win he never got to have against you in your 3rd year.
Naoya released his grip on your hair and threw his head back, trying and failing to stifle a moan as your tongue started to work itself around his cock more, pulling your head back frequently to swirl it around the tip, then pushing the top of your tongue to the back of your throat, using the underside of it as a barrier for the tip of his member to bounce off of. You kept up this routine for a short while, his grunts and soft hisses spurring you on, it was disgusting how having such a horrible person’s dick in your mouth was making you this wet without even having been touched.
Naoya was unpleasable, and a misogynist on top of that. As degrading as it was, if being used as a sex toy for an hour was the key to unraveling him, your pride would have to take a back seat to the ego you were going to gain from making him come.
But as if right on queue, he started to desire something much quicker and much filthier, lacing his fingers together behind your head and beginning to move you at his own tempo. You yelped in surprise as Naoya shoved your nose into his stomach, and you could feel the vibrations in his chest from him laughing at your noises of protest.
“You look so much prettier when that little mouth of yours is stuffed.”
You looked up at him to glare, but all he saw was your eyes starting to water at the sides as he brutally fucked into the back of your throat. Not giving you a moment of relief, he continued to roll his hips into you, sometimes pulling you back but never fully off, only to ram back to the hilt again.
You hated how much you were enjoying this, you hated how much he was enjoying this. The aching jaw, the blurry vision, the way you had to desperately breathe through your nose, all of it.
Naoya, always to be the one in control, was only human, and was starting to come undone himself. You could feel his thrusts losing their constant rhythm, causing you to gag when he bucked particularly far in every so often, the saliva had become thick in your mouth and started to form small bubbles and run out the sides of your lips each time he thrusted back in and tears were fully running from the corners of your eyes and oh my god the inside of your mouth felt like heaven to him.
It was wet and it was filthy, and the way your hands came up to his thighs and gripped so tightly your fingernails could have torn through the fabric only egged him on more. He had a plan to break you, and so far it was going beautifully.
Naoya could have come, just like this, in the perfect warmth of your mouth, looking down at your face starting to glow with sweat, stray hairs sticking to your forehead. But, he had far more planned for the night, and almost reluctantly pulled you off his cock, a long line of saliva attaching itself from your mouth to him before breaking and sticking to your chin.
Before you even had a moment to take a full breath, Naoya quickly bent down and gripped your face again, the saliva that had pooled in your mouth threatening to follow the rest out the corners of your mouth.
He made a low noise in his throat and spit into your mouth, once again letting it fall slow from his lips, prolonging the amount of time for you to be below him.
“Swallow it.”
You let your eyes shut and closed your mouth to swallow, but instead drew the spit back in your throat just to launch it forward at Naoya’s face, landing perfectly over his right eye. You opened your eyes back up, eager to see what malicious face you caused to make this time, but before your pupils could even adjust a hand came down across your face, so hard it knocked you off balance from your kneeled position.
The slap quite literally knocked you on your ass, legs splayed out to the side. Holding yourself up with your hands, you coughed a few times, trying to catch your breath both from him mercilessly fucking your throat and the stinging slap.
You looked up at Naoya who was grimacing as he wiped spit from his eye before crudely wiping his hand on his pants and tucking himself back into his boxers momentarily. He turned to the direction where you lay on the floor, pulling his shirt over his head from the back.
Naoya being able to have a body like that was unfair. His abs were chiseled out of his body, biceps appearing even larger now that they were free from the shirt. Your eyes traveled up and down his chest, taking note of small scars that were sprinkled around. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed something dark peaking over both of his shoulders, and when he moved closer you determined it was a tattoo of some sort and oh my god the thought of scratching your nails up and down Naoya’s tattooed back while he fucked you made you feel faint. He began speaking again, ripping your attention from the fantasy.
“Ya know, I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” he confessed, but the usual sincerity of a statement like that was nowhere to be found. Taking his pants off the rest of the way he continued, “I always thought if I could fuck ya good and hard just once you’d come to yer senses about where a bitch like you belongs, but it seems like you still don’t understand yet.”
Naoya ran his fingers through damp hair and took one large step in your direction. You tried to stand but he kicked you back on your shoulder, walking over to place a foot in the middle of your chest to hold you to the floor. Both of your hands came up to try and pull his ankle off, but it was futile, his strength easily overpowering your small frame.
“You’re worthless, ya know.”
Your nostrils flared as you tried to push yourself back up off the floor, only to have your face contort in pain as he pressed harder on your sternum.
“Women don’t need a place in the jujutsu world, only to stay at home and open their legs wide when we come back.” The way he used “we” to discern all men including himself disgusted you. Men were pigs, sure, but lumping them all in with the likes of Naoya felt a bit harsh.
You kept your mouth shut for the time being, half still regaining your composure and half waiting for the perfect time to make a retort. What you didn’t expect was Naoya getting specific with his insults.
Digging his heel in a bit more, Naoya held your eye contact, his half lidded and yours wide with rage. He rolled the next words off his tongue like honey, “Yer surrounded by people like me and Satoru and you know yer inferior in every way. How could you ever expect to compete with the Six Eyes? Or outrun me? It’s pathetic seeing how hard you try.”
He lifted his foot off your chest and placed it back on the ground, but his words were enough to keep holding you down. What he said stung, and it was probably the one and only thing you’d agree with him about. You were lucky to spend your formative jujutsu years around Gojo, the loud-mouth teaching you better than anyone could. But, you knew no matter how hard you trained you would never be on a level close to him, never have the background someone like him or even Naoya have.
You started to stand up, offering him a response, “Sorry I didn’t have everything handed to me on a silver fucking platter.”
Naoya thought it was cute, the way you had a response to everything, and he realized that he was having fun. This surely was not the first time he had beaten someone to the floor (sexual or otherwise) but what was different about you was the gaze that met his own. There was no fear (maybe a little, but you did well to mask it), just rage and a growing desire. Naoya wanted to see more of it, and break you into a million little pieces.
He inched forward and moved his hands to your waist, pulling your shirt over your head with no resistance. You shivered when Naoya’s fingers grazed your sides and moved to your back, unclasping your bra, letting it slide off your shoulders to reveal your bare chest.
He smirked, letting one hand relax down to your hip, bringing the other to slowly massage one of your breasts. “That’s another thing that amuses me about you, you say the rudest things with that mouth of yours,” He moved his mouth to your ear, whispering, “Yet the second I start touching you all that resistance starts to melt away.”
Naoya let the last word fall from lips and harshly squeezed your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. The tiniest hiccup of a moan caught in your throat before you could swallow the sensation down, and you could feel his smirk penetrating your skull as you turned your eyes away from him.
You knew it was easy for Naoya to see right through you, and he started playing a dirty game the second his touches went from punishing and rough to soft, bordering on passionate.
He lowered his hand from your chest to undo the button on your pants, the noise of the zipper painfully loud in comparison to your low, quick breaths. You kept your hands at your side, afraid of moving in the wrong direction and upsetting him. You weren’t afraid of him, but afraid of losing this touch, his touch, the one you hated yourself for daydreaming about for so many years.
He slipped his hand in, going below your underwear and using his middle finger to toy at your entrance. You curled your toes as a means to try and hold off any noises your mouth was dying to make as Naoya continued to play with the wetness that had accumulated, refusing to actually move his fingers inside.
He felt your body tense under his touch, could sense the way you were trying to keep some control over yourself, but he was having none of it. Sufficiently coated in your own fluids, Naoya dragged the finger slowly up to your clit, simply putting pressure on the small spot and nothing more. Two high pitched sounds exited your mouth followed by a softer hum of your lips. Your body had been so wound up from pulling itself between lack of touch and trying not to crumble under it that the mere graze against the most sensitive part of you was unwinding you at an alarming rate.
Naoya smirked to himself as you went to surge yourself forward on the balls of your feet, hands finally moving from your sides to his arms, desperately looking for more friction.
Leaning his head down, he licked a stripe from the bottom of your neck to right below your ear, whispering, “Your body is betraying you again.”
And if Naoya kept touching you like this, you were going to continue to let it.
He finally graced you with more movement of his fingers, slowly dancing around your clit, the bubbling feeling in your stomach starting to rise. Keeping his head near the soft spot behind your ear, he began to trail soft but wet kisses down your neck and into your collarbone. This feeling, so tender, so gentle, something you had never experienced from him before gave you a false sense of security and confidence as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders, taking purchase in his hair and trying to grind yourself further down on his fingers, letting the soft noises escape your mouth now without pause.
Naoya was dizzying. You knew these soft, teasing acts were a limited time deal, but that didn’t stop them from tricking your mind into thinking he might be a gentle lover after all, using slow strokes along your slit, moving his fingers back down to your entrance momentarily to gather your own wetness and then back up, letting you hold him in your arms, getting sweaty and sticky together.
His fingers began to move faster, now dancing between your curves and folds and sensitive bud, your own arousal being spread around heightening the feeling. Naoya began to restrict his movements only to small circles around your clit with two fingers, bringing with it all your nerves right to your core, waiting for it to finally snap.
“Nao-Naoya.” Your mouth betraying you this time, you moaned out his name with a shaky breath, pussy beginning to contract around nothing, twitching every so often when his fingers would curl a certain way. Your body felt like it was on fire, hands roughly holding on to his hair to keep yourself standing, thighs shaking more violently as each second passed. He feels your back start to arch and promptly removes his fingers from your clit entirely.
You whimpered just loud enough for Naoya’s ears as he finished removing his hand from your pants, your underwear now clinging uncomfortably to your body. Trying to catch your breath and recover from the disappointment of having an orgasm ripped from you, Naoya speaks, clear and bold.
“You’re so easy.”
There it was, the return of the arrogant, condescending voice.
Naoya’s body had gone cold and rigid again while your hands were still wrapped around him, using them to hold your limp body up, willing your breathing to return to normal. His words made your ears red, the confidence you found turning into shame and embarrassment.
He was cruel, not only for denying you an orgasm, but for making you feel guilty about reaching for one in the first place. You were being punished by the same man who was relishing in the pleasure you gave him, and the hatred in your chest started boiling again.
He guided you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fell back onto it softly. Naoya, momentarily distracted by the preview of what you were going to look like under him, spoke again, “You’re weak.”
He wasn’t speaking in a teasing way anymore, more matter-of-fact if anything, like his words came from a textbook itself.
Looking down on you as he removed his boxers to reveal the same hardened cock, he continued, “You women cave so easily under pressure, how can ya begin to think you have what it takes to fight curses.”
Naoya reached down and grabbed you by the ankles, pulling off your pants and soaked underwear, then lifted them up, prompting you to move your whole body backwards onto the bed, him climbing up with you, settling on his knees in between your legs.
“You’re pliant.” He reached both hands under your knees and around your thighs, dragging you down in a quick motion to where the head of his cock was almost flush with your deprived entrance. He took notice of the way your tits softly bounced as he tugged at you like a rag doll, while the red of your ears and flush of your face activated again, mixed again with feelings of rage and lust.
Naoya leaned forward slightly, caging you in with his arms on either side of your waist. You sucked in a short breath through your nose when the head of his cock moved gently against the length of your slit, trying to hold his eye contact with as much intensity as you could muster.
“Your body was made for sex, not fighting.”
Naoya practically spat the words in your face, but instead of plain pretentiousness, there was a dark heat beginning to erupt behind his eyes, anger of some sort.
You thought for a minute how easy it would be for you to knee him in the dick, punch a fist right into his smug little face while he was in a compromising position. Ultimately, you decided against it for two reasons; one, you weren’t positive Naoya would keep you alive if you acted too far out of turn again, and two, you wanted him to fuck you oh god how bad you wanted this disgrace of a human being to be inside of you.
While physical retaliation was out of the question, there was still the option of your mouth. Three small words crawled their way up your throat as your body started to tremble with anticipation. Looking Naoya dead in the eye, you spoke.
“Then fuck me.”
The words flowed smoothly out of your mouth, almost nonchalant, as you knew the disinterested tone would cause the fire behind his eyes to burn even brighter.
In what could have very well possibly been a fraction of a second, Naoya grabbed your hips and raised them slightly off the bed, plunging inside of you and bottoming out with that first single thrust.
Not even trying to hide it, a blissed out smile plastered across your face accompanied by a breathy moan. The sudden intrusion was a bit painful, but you weren’t going to let him know that. You arched your back into his hands even more, splaying your fingers out, hearing a low groan come from his mouth.
“Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do.” He seethed, and then stilled inside you.
What you thought was Naoya pausing to give you time to adjust to the girth of his cock fully sheathed inside of you was merely him taking you all in, keeping one hand on your hip he used the other to push his bangs back from his eyes, mouth hung open as he marveled at watching himself inside of you.
Something about finally being inside you made him feel victorious, but irritated at the same time. He was supposed to be the one fucking you, breaking down that stupid confidence with each buck of his hips. Instead, you had goaded him into making the first move, and it severely pissed him off how easily he followed your direction.
Experimentally, Naoya pulled out so just the tip was still inside, and slowly inched his way back in, dividing his attention between how tight and wet you felt around him and the way you shuddered, eyes falling shut, starting to relax around him.
He went through the same motions again, but began working up to a quicker pace, moving one hand from your waist up to your chest to pinch and toy at your nipples. His thrusts were bordering on brutal now, and he found it pitifully cute how the pads of your fingertips tried to hold him back by grazing his lower abdomen. Your head rolled back, eyes shut and mouth open, lewd noises echoed in the room over small moans and grunts from both of you.
You tried your best to not immediately fall apart under him, but his fast and deep pace which had his pelvis pressuring your clit every so often made it difficult. Naoya was towering over you, but watching him start to come undone also made you feel like you were winning a round of whatever game the two of you had been playing all evening. Wet spots had started to form on the sheets under you, his whole body was slick with sweat, enough so that another run of his hand back his head held the bangs in place, fully exposing his forehead.
Naoya looked…..good….like this. That familiar feeling of superiority came back. You were the one who was being fucked by him, you were the one who got to see him naked, who made his cock twitch inside of your throbbing pussy. It was exhilarating, both the mental high of ripping moans from his mouth and the way he would angle his hips up every so often, hitting that sweet spot inside of you.
Taking advantage of him being distracted by the wet sounds your pussy was making as it clenched around him, you managed to breathe out.
“It’s almost as if - hah, ah,” Naoya’s open mouth clamped shut and his hooded eyes gazed down on you, almost angry that you had interrupted his quest for pleasure. He had not stopped his movements from the waist down at all, and after another small moan you continued, “liking to fu-fuck has nothing to do with your strength or abilities.”
Naoya narrowed his eyes, “What did yo-“
You cut him off before he could finish, knowing it would only add fuel to the fire, “I mean, if you can do both, anyone can.”
Your bait had worked perfectly. Naoya adjusted himself so he was leaning over your figure more, head hanging forward, hands moving to grip the sheets so tightly you could see his veins straining out of the corner of your eye. He gritted through his teeth as he rolled his hips deep inside your aching core, anger blocking out the sensation of your pussy having become impossibly more wet around him. “Shut up you stupid bitch.”
Naoya was losing his composure by the second but the words ‘not yet’ echoed in your head. Something inside your brain told you to keep pushing.
“Why does that make you so mad, huh?” You taunted, starting to move your hips in time with his, fucking him back.You threw your hands up above your head, using the headboard as leverage to keep rocking yourself back on his cock. Glancing up at him with the biggest shit eating fucked out grin you could manage, you spoke.
“Afraid I'll make you come and beat your ass again?”
That did it. Naoya’s pupils blew, the veins on the side of his forehead were protruding out, visible beads of sweat falling from his face and chest onto you. The last string of sanity holding him together finally snapped, and he brought both of his hands around your neck.
Squeezing firmly with his fingers on both sides, he looked down at you expecting to find some scared little girl begging for him to release his grip, but instead, he saw you again, eyes open, lips teetering on the edge of a smile, like you were enjoying this, like you had planned this.
He lined the surge of his hips up with the growl of his words. “Shut. Up. Just. Shut. Up.” Each thrust hit somehow deeper inside of you, jolting you back and bouncing your sweat covered tits in small circular motions.
Naoya readjusted his grip on your throat that had come loose from the slippery sweat on both of you. It was a little bit tighter this time, prompting one of your hands to come up and wrap around his wrist. His thrusts were becoming erratic now, sometimes almost falling out of you completely. But, the unsteady rhythm was a change your body was not used to and your pussy started to flutter around him, the bubbling in your stomach igniting from the inside penetration alone.
His breathing was almost panicked, short small breaths and grunts spilling out, making it almost difficult to speak. “I’m not threatened by the likes of you,” he said, more trying to convince himself than anything. He had to stop in between the sentences, labored breathing making it hard to speak. “You just don’t fuckin’ belong anywhere but here.”
Your idea to keep egging him on might not have been the best as you started to see spots in your vision, waiting for a release of pressure on your neck that you knew deep down wasn’t coming. Your focus was being constantly ripped between the feeling of Naoya’s cock still ruthlessly pumping into you and his moans and the hands around your neck and the dryness in your mouth and had it always been this hot in here?
His entire chest heaved up and down while he spoke, short breaths between every few words. “You women have no business being jujutsu sorcerers, you have no business going on missions, you have no fuckin’ business putting yerself in danger, fuckin’ fighting curses.”
Naoya’s words started to become fuzzy in your ears as you were drifting slowly into unconsciousness, and maybe it was the lack of oxygen getting to your brain but you swore there was a shift in emphasis from you women to just you. Something in there about being in danger.
A few thrusts later Naoya noticed he was being met with no resistance whatsoever. Glancing down at his own hands, they felt foreign around your neck, like they weren’t his own. After realizing they were in fact his, he released his grip and pulled out of you, falling gracelessly onto his ass. He could feel his heart trying to beat out of his soaked chest, holding back the wet hair, trying to control his breathing and swallowing down what little moisture was left in his mouth.
Naoya looked at you, appearing lifeless on the bed, small hints of green and purple beginning to form around your neck where his fingers had been. He drags one hand down his face, leaning back on the other and watches intently for the small rise and fall of your chest.
Why was he getting so bent out of shape over you? Has it been that long since someone properly tried to match him that he could no longer handle a little teasing? Couldn’t handle banter with some woman? Truth be told, he was angry. He was angry that you were stubborn even when he had wished for someone like you to come along. He only wanted that stubbornness and misplaced confidence to tear it apart and he was furious that you weren’t more afraid of him and afraid of the world and afraid of people and afraid of curses.
God, he felt pathetic. Some nobody, a woman at that, was making his brain go haywire. He decided to blame it on the heat getting to his head and focused on regaining his footing. He was Naoya Zen’in for fucks sake. What was he going to do? Wrap you up in a blanket and hold you in his arms until you wake up, ready with some water? Not likely. He hadn’t even come yet, no way you were getting off that easy.
Naoya readjusted himself to his knees once again, bringing his hand up to your face, cupping your jaw and not so gently moving it and from side to side in an attempt to wake you. “Hey, wake up.” The words almost came out as an order as he added in a few slaps to the side of your face.
A harsher smack finally woke you, eyes slowly opening, trying to gather details in the soft white you saw. You thought maybe you had died and gone to heaven, but as soon as the black tipped light hair started to come back into focus you realized you were still very much in hell. You tried to speak, a very hoarse “Jesus Christ” left your mouth as you let your eyes flutter close again.
Naoya spoke louder, “Wake up. I’m not finished yet.”
Once he confirmed you were conscious again, he easily flipped your limp body over on the bed. Arms too weak to support themselves in your current state, your chest remained flush with the bed. He grabbed both sides of your hips and hoisted your ass back up to him, nudging your knees to go around the outside of both of his, supporting the backs of your thighs with his own.
Everything was still a blur. Your throat hurt, your eyes could only adjust to the white sheets around you, your mind was foggy. But something instinctual, almost animalistic was eating inside you being placed in this position. You faintly heard him spit again, presumably an attempt to lube himself back up and use what little energy you had left to shove your ass back onto him, arching as much as your body would allow.
Naoya’s eyes went wild, and a smirk so heinous it could have made the devil blush plastered across his face. He lined himself back up with your entrance and slid in, hands going to your hips and roughly digging his nails in until he bottomed out. He hissed at the feeling of being back inside of you, the sensation in the pit of his stomach picking up where it left off.
The new angle was allowing him to hit so deep inside of you your thighs started to shake almost immediately, the feeling Naoya had deprived you of earlier building much more quickly this time, your core already on fire.
You were in another world, possibly headed towards heaven, but definitely still in hell, because you willingly started to rut back against him, meeting his thrusts in the middle until he realized the change in pace. Naoya took this moment to still almost completely, content with watching you ride his cock in this position, half alive and drowning in a pool of your own spit.
You didn’t care about anything anymore as a melody of tortured sounds escaped your lips as Naoya feverishly pounded into you. The internal stimulation wasn’t quite enough for you, and relinquishing what shred of dignity you had left from today, you spoke.
“-ease”. Naoya’s ears perked up. You hadn’t formed any coherent words (or thoughts for that matter) since he nearly choked you to death. He listened closer, slowing his pace to steady rolls of his hips.
“Please.”
It was soft and muffled by the bedsheets and obscene noises Naoya’s cock was making moving in and out of you. But, he heard it loud and clear; you were begging for him to let you come this time.
It was true Naoya believed that women’s bodies only existed for the pleasure of men, but unlike most, he took it a step further and believed that women’s pleasure also only existed for men’s pleasure. He knew that letting you orgasm would make his even better, having an already tight pussy clench even harder around his cock was always just the right extra push to get him over the edge.
You had no way of knowing he planned to all but force you to come around his cock, but the desperation in your voice unlocked a new part of his brain. He had successfully gotten you to submit, but now he wanted to put you in more situations where you were not only submitting, but begging.
He knew better than to keep prodding with a “please what?” this time around, amazed as it is that you were able to get that much out of your mouth. Instead, he crudely licked the three middle fingers on his right hand and wrapped it around to your front, eliciting a high pitched scream when they came in contact with your swollen clit.
Naoya’s fingers start to circle around the sensitive nub with more accuracy than before. He was meticulous, not wasting any movements, trying to time your high with his own. Your breath hitches and your spine curls upwards, body tensing, praying to god he follows through this time. He used his free hand to try and steady your hips so he could continue chasing his goal as well.
Naoya’s thrusts and fingers movements started to become sloppy as your body trembled violently below him. Moans and pants fell freely from both of your mouths and a few more particularly firm passes of his fingers over your clit caused your undoing. Your pussy started clenching in short successions around him, juices flowing out from you onto his length, a shaky scream turned moan fell from your parted lips, still smothered into the sheets.
Naoya immediately stiffened inside of you. One, two, three more thrusts and he reluctantly pulled his cock from your spasming pussy, quickly jerking at the end of it until he shot thick ropes of cum all over your ass and up your lower back, moaning out profanities.
What little bit of your lower half was still elevated collapsed on the bed, body lifeless save for the up and down motion of your back while you caught your breath.
Naoya fell back too, supporting himself with his hands, watching the way his cum had pooled in the spot where your lower back meets your ass. He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling and reminisced on how good your tight and wet and filthy hole was around him. However, through all of that effort, he still didn’t feel satisfied, still wasn’t able to break you down the way he wanted. Irritation started to work it’s way back into him system as he slung himself off the bed, issuing a warning to you, “Don’t fuckin’ roll over.”
You had finally collected most of yourself, now just drained from both Naoya’s hands and cock. Feigning innocence and what would have been an understandable incapability of all your senses working, you slowly rolled to your back. Trying your best to ignore the now somewhat cooled substance pressing further around your back against the sheets, you stared at Naoya with hooded eyes, “What was that? I couldn’t hear you?”
He took a deep breath and shoved his tongue to one side of his cheek and closed his eyes, running it harshly along the inside of his bottom lip until it relaxed at the other side and he let out the breath. “You are the most irritating bitch I have ever met in my entire life.”
“You flatter me,” you glowed.
“And you have approximately three minutes to get the fuck out of this room.” Naoya started to locate his clothes from the floor of the room, grimacing as his shirt stuck to the still sweaty parts of his body.
“so harrrrsshhhhh. Naoya-chan,” you sang as you stretched your arms above your head, wiggling your hips a little into the bed like you planned on making it your home for the next two days.
It made him furious how fast you went back to speaking without a filter after being fucked (and choked) out like that. “I need to get the stench of whore out of my room.” Naoya stated flatly, pulling back on his boxers and jeans with robotic motions, facing away from the bed, staring at nothing in particular.
A small laugh escaped your lips, “Don’t front with me, I know there’s no way the heir to the great Zen’in clan washes his own sheets.” Naoya didn’t offer a rebuttal, because he knew it was true, and because he was sincerely trying to fight back the urge to kill you. Instead, he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the stray pieces of bangs away while he looked for his belt amongst the piles of clothing still on the floor.
You sat up in the bed, using an already damp sheet to wipe the rest of the cum off your back as best you could. “I also know this isn’t your room.” Because of course it wasn’t his real room, because of course Naoya Zen’in would have a spare room in his mansion dedicated to fucking women.
“I’m sorry, would your normal venue of a bar bathroom have been more comfortable?” Naoya baited. Even though you had slightly higher standards, you decided to run with it, amused at how his insults were turning more and more childish.
Standing from the bed you found your pants, forgoing the underwear and stuffing them into the back pocket. You offered in return, “Oh, no, then I would have to be seen in public with you again.”
Naoya turned to face you, and you smirked when his eyes drifted to your uncovered chest. He was still a man after all.
“Might actually do ya some good to be publically associated with a Zen’in, you’re not gonna get very far on yer own.” Naoya falsified sympathy with his tone. “Too bad though, ‘m fresh out of charity cases.”
You grabbed your shirt off the floor, sliding it on and thinking to yourself how much fun it was to poke Naoya’s buttons, especially now that he was post-orgasm and tired and reverted back to the petty remarks.
“I’d rather die than be seen with your hand around my waist.” You paused, meeting his apathetic gaze, wondering if the follow up to your comment was worth the possible reaction you could reignite. Realizing this might be the only time you’d get to speak freely around him, you continued.
“But I guess there’s a chance I would, I’ve heard the Zen’in men don’t particularly care if their wives get murdered.”
Naoya’s eyes went dark, pupils swallowing any of the color in them. Your comment had triggered something inside him more than any jab at his own person had, the aura around him almost sinister. He lunged towards you, raising his hand up again to wrap around your throat.
A maniacal laugh bellowed through the room before Naoya even had the chance to apply pressure with his fingers. “Is that your solution to everything? The last word being drawn out on an exhale of laughter. “You think you can just choke me out everytime I challenge you, your ‘credibility,’ your strength?”
You pushed yourself forward on the balls of your feet, purposefully moving into his hold. Naoya’s fingers instinctively squeezed just the smallest amount. Your eyes narrowed, “You’ll never make it as clan leader if you let one lonely whore bring you to your knees like that, Zen’in.”
“Get out.”
Happy to accommodate, you grabbed the rest of your essentials and hurried out the same way you entered, slamming the sliding door in the process. Keeping a fast pace you tried to fix your hair with your fingers and wipe sweat from your brow, god forbid someone would see you like this.
You made it back to the area where you came in, spotting a smaller gated door that led to the outside. You wanted to get off of Zen’in property as soon as possible before even thinking about pulling up your phone to call for a ride, somewhat fearful Naoya would change his mind about letting you go and come after you with a knife in hand.
Luckily, the gate wasn’t locked from the inside and you pushed it open to take your leave, but not before flicking a small bolt of lightning from your pointer finger directly into the body of Naoya’s motorcycle, then turning and wondering how the hell you were going to get back to Tokyo and explain the marks around your neck.