CinnaVanilla

cinnamon | 18 | NSFW | she/her

[cinnavanillaa]

My Masterlist

All my work in one place

Jujutsu Kaisen

Gojo

♡ Knew It Was you Fluff

♡ Staining his shirt with makeup Fluff

♡ Spoiling You Is The Best Investment Fluff

♡ Birthday Boy, Painted in Pink Fluff

♡ P!Links Smut

♡ Taste-Testing You Smut

♡ Gojo Stans Sabrina Carpenter Smut

♡ Eyes on the Road Smut

♡ I want my Boyfriends to Kiss x Sukuna Smut? but not really

♡ Smart Girl Theory Pt. 1 x Nerdy!Reader x Frat!Geto Smut-ish?

♡ Yeah x3 Frat!Gojo x Reader x Frat!Naoya Smut

Naoya

♡ Yeah x3 Frat!Gojo x Reader x Frat!Naoya Smut

♡ What I'm Actually Good At Smut

♡ Say That Again Smut

♡ Men don’t do that Smut

♡ Fixing the Problem Smut

♡ Pathetic... And You Love It Smut

♡ Broken By Pride Smut

♡ P!Links Smut

♡ Beg for Me Angst

♡ You Always Mean It Angst

♡ Needy-Noya Smutty

♡ Doing Naoya's Eyeliner Fluff

♡ Bf!Naoya Refusing to Sleep in Y/N’s Girly Bed Fluff

♡ Naoya leaves the house, unaware of the lipstick kisses Y/N left on his face Fluff

♡ Morning with Some Boob-holding Smutty-Fluff

Yuji

♡ I Just Needed You Fluff

♡ Five Freezing Hints Later Fluff

♡ Asking Him to Wrap His Bicep Around ur Neck Fluff

♡ Guess Im Just Weak for You Fluff

♡ Neck-Kisses Fluff

♡ When Your Boyfriend Forgets Halloween Fluff

♡ I Just Want to Take Care of You Smut

♡ Real Munch Activities Smut

Choso

♡ Call Smut

♡ BF!Choso Headcanons Smut

♡ Focus On Me Smut

♡ P!Links Smut

Hakari

♡ Strip Poker Smut

♡ Play With My Chips Smut

Kashimo

♡ Testing Limits Smut

Chainsaw Man

♡ Hold Tight (Aki x Reader Smut)

♡ Don’t Skip a Line (Aki x Reader Smut)

Gachiakuta

Jabber

♡ First Hit Plug!Jabber Fluff

♡ Feel Everything Plug!Jabber Fluff

♡ Kisses with Teeth Fluff

Enjin

♡ Baby, let me lick on your tattoos Smut

♡ ‘Think’ Faster Next Time Smut

Demon Slayer

♡ Because It’s Always You (Giyuu x Reader Smut)

♡ His Two Priorities (Tengen x Reader Smut)

Attack on Titan

♡ Best Friends Brother (Eren x Reader Smut)

[cinamnvanilla]

Naoya acting tough all day then cuddling up to his wife’s chest with a pout at night. He’s just a big baby 🥹

[insomnoph1le]

Waiter waiter! More pathetic touch starved Naoya fics please!

[opheliaandherpeaches]

HIII if requests are open, i am BEGGING for a jjk x reader smau with reader pulling the “she’s busy rn” prank on them 🤭 You write them all sooo amazingly, it’s genuinely the best ‼️ thank you so much for your service

Maybe next time?

Summary: You prank your JJK boy with the classic "she's busy" text! How do they respond?

ꕥincludes: S Gojo. S Geto. K Nanami. T Fushiguro. S Kong. R Sukuna. Y Itadori. M Fushiguro. T Inumaki. N Zenin. C Kamo. I Takuma

TW: Swearing! Some of them are suggestive. Mentions of death and violence.

a/n: I sincerely apologize for disappearing for months. My writer's block turned into me losing motivation and with college I had my plate full but I have returned with newfound energy and more time!

I appreciate all my peaches for being so patient and waiting on me <3

[kayoticworld]

Naoya zenin headcanon

Man can't even tie his shoes. You really think he's into Bondage? Nahh. He. Can't. Tie. A. Knot.

But him getting tied up and letting you ride him, that's a different story...

[alizha]

Feed a Cold - or, Naoya thinks he's a big bad alpha male but turns into a needy baby whenever he's under the weather

featuring: situationship!naoya zenin x fem!reader word count: 2.0k contents: n/sfw, explicit sexual content, 2nd person pov, no use of y/n, misogyny, naoya is his own warning, use of "bitch" to refer to reader, bathtub sex, handjob, unprotected piv sex a/n: based on a headcanon from a couple weeks ago 🤭

masterlist

⟢ Naoya hasn’t been picking up the phone or responding to his messages for the past 12 hours. But you can still see the little shit leaving you on read. So, either he’s ignoring you or something’s wrong. You intend to find out which.

⟢ When you show up at his place, you decide to be nice and press the buzzer. No answer. You try just one more time before using your key. It’s possible, of course, he’s not even in Kyoto. Maybe he’s at his family estate. Oh, well. If he’s not there, you might as well help yourself to a few of his fancy imported body creams. For a man who talks so much about “natural masculine strength,” Naoya owns a suspicious amount of moisturizer.

⟢ The apartment is quiet as you step inside, and you think it figures that Naoya’s just being a prick. But then, you hear coughing coming from somewhere deep in the apartment. When you follow the sound, it leads you to the bedroom, where Naoya is curled up on the bed.

⟢ He looks fucking awful. At least three blankets have been dragged up and messily piled around him in a nest. His hair sticks up in places where he’s laid on it, and several crumpled tissues are scattered around the floor. The way he’s sniffling, you half think he’s on death’s door.

⟢ For a moment, you actually feel a little guilty. Naoya isn’t the sort of person who ever lets himself look like this. Even after fighting curses, he’s usually composed. Seeing him collapsed into the mattress, pale and red around the nose, mouthbreathing, is highly unsettling.

“Naoya?” you say tentatively.

His response is just another miserable cough that seems to wring itself out of his chest.

⟢ You step closer. What the hell is wrong with him? Food poisoning? Some kind of cursed technique disease? He hasn’t answered his phone for twelve hours and the idiot lives alone. If he’d collapsed, who would even notice? You lean down and press the back of your hand to his forehead.

Naoya stirs at the touch, groaning softly and burrowing deeper under the blankets like a disgruntled cat. When he croaks your name, it’s barely audible.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, relief flooding through you before irritation immediately chases it. “You look like shit. You have a damn cold, and you look like shit.”

He squints up at you through bleary eyes. “I do not have a cold. Zenin men don’t get sick.”

⟢ You exhale through your nose. Twelve hours of worry (not that you’d admit it), and the idiot’s acting like he’s about to pass away from a case of the sniffles. You stare at him, the man who, just two days ago, had spent an entire dinner explaining why half the population was biologically unfit to hold positions of authority. “It’s a cold,” you say, withdrawing your hand. “It’s twenty-three degrees in here, and you look like you’re about to be swallowed whole by the blankets.”

⟢ Naoya coughs again but tries to disguise it as a particularly unconvincing grunt. “Well?” he demands in a nasally voice. “Did you bring me anything?”

“Like what?”

“Like medicine, bitch.”

⟢ You take a breath and remind yourself not to slap the ill, bed-ridden man. “You mean for the illness you don’t have?”

“Damn, woman,” he mutters. “Least you could do is cook something. Ain’t had a bite all day.”

⟢ “I’m not your maid,” you snap, folding your arms over your chest. “And besides, you’re supposed to starve a cold.”

“Are you stupid? You feed a cold and starve a fever.” He tries to sneer, but it comes out like a pathetic grimace before he succumbs to another shivery coughing fit. “You’re supposed to know this stuff if you’re gonna nag me.”

“If you’re so smart, why didn’t you get your own food?”

“Didn’t wanna go out,” he huffs, sullen. “Didn’t wanna text for takeout. Too much effort. That’s why you’re here, ain’t it? C’mon.” He lets out a petulant whine. “If you don’t wanna cook, there are other ways you could take care of me.”

⟢ You narrow your eyes at him. Unbelievable, you think. Alpha male who can’t even be bothered to put a label on your relationship—undone by a measly cold. And now, he’s expecting to get some action? In the state he’s in? “You’re crazy. What you need is rest.”

⟢ “Orgasms help with congestion, ya know,” Naoya states matter-of-factly.

“You are not serious.”

“But it’s true,” he grumbles. “Loosens you right up.”

⟢ You roll your eyes. “You can barely move. I’d have to do all the work.”

“Don’t mind,” he slurs, sluggishly wiggling a bit out of the pile of blankets like a hopeful worm. “Could just… lay back. Be pampered. S’what I deserve.”

God. This man. You felt your eye twitch. “Fine. But you’re bathing first.”

⟢ Inevitably, you end up just joining him in the bath after he complains about how standing makes his head spin. You bully him into dragging himself to the washroom and strip him with all the gentleness of someone handling a sack of potatoes.

⟢ He’s a nightmare, whining every time you adjust the water temperature or try to scrub his back, flinching like you’re using sandpaper instead of one of his soft, luxe washclothes. When he’s finally scrubbed down, you help him into the steaming bath and lower yourself down between his thighs with a long exhale.

⟢ “How’s the congestion now?” you ask sarcastically, knowing full well the steam ought to be enough to break down the phlegm but that once Naoya gets an idea in his head, he doesn’t let it go so easily.

⟢ He presses his chest to your back and lets his lips brush the shell of your ear. “It ain’t goin’ away unless you do something about it.”

“If it’s that stubborn, maybe I should just dunk you under.”

“Wouldn’t be manly to drown in the tub,” he mumbles, splaying one hand over your sternum.

“Not very manly to make someone bathe you just because of a little cold, yet here we are,” you shoot back, but you’re already reaching behind and between your bodies to find his cock.

⟢ You wrap your fingers around him, half-hard, and Naoya slumps with a shuddering breath. He drops his forehead to your shoulder, heat blooming against your skin as he twitches against your palm. A soft sound rattles his throat as you stroke him, letting your knuckles drag over his length until he turns to steel in your hand.

⟢ He arches and rasps, “Harder,” and you think only Naoya could manage to sound demanding while sick and shivering.

“So bossy for someone who can’t even wash his own hair.” You tighten your grip enough to have him gasp, then lean your head back against his shoulder. “Don’t get cocky. You’ll pass out before we even get started.”

⟢ The water sloshes around you, gently from the rhythm of your strokes and more violently every time Naoya’s body jerks or bucks his hips. You can feel the slippery slickness of your own arousal sliding between your thighs as his hands wander your chest, weak grip squeezing and kneading at your tits. Your nipples pebble in the humid air.

⟢ Naoya’s every exhale turns into whimpers against your ear, panting openly like he can’t close his mouth. His groans echo off the tile, and you twist your wrist just to feel him jolt, the smug bastard. He’s always going on about how women should let their man lead, especially in the bedroom, yet here he is, pathetic and helpless in your hands. Honestly, he’s lucky you put up with him at all, even as just a convenient fuck.

⟢ You slow your hand and lift yourself up slightly to shift back, grazing the soft folds of your pussy against his cock. Water sluices over your skin as Naoya convulses under you. “Easy,” you say. “You don’t wanna end up at the clinic because you’re too horny to handle a cold, do you?”

“Fuck,” he whines, nasally, rutting his hips against your ass.

⟢ The head of his cock slips through your swollen folds as you guide it through your slick. You roll your hips to rub your clit against the length until you’re throbbing and Naoya’s openly begging.

“C’mon,” he pleads, hands clutching at your hips. “Don’t tease. Put it in, please—”

Bathwater splashes over the side of the tub as he jerks when you give his cock a pointed squeeze. “Bet you’d die if I stopped now, huh?”

Naoya groans, muffled against your nape. “Fuck—don’t—”

⟢ You grin and angle your hips until you can work the head of his cock inside. Fuck, he’s so thick and heavy, and the initial stretch makes you hiss. It’s a wonder he’s got enough blood left in his head to keep himself conscious. That was why you kept coming back despite his rancid attitude, wasn’t it? His huge, dumb cock.

⟢ It splits you open as you sink down, somehow soothing the greedy ache between your thighs. You can feel every inch of him pulsing inside you, even through the thick haze of heat. The fullness leaves you trembling, and Naoya moans behind you with feverish need, weakly driving his hips up to meet you.

“God, just like that, shit,” he gasps, digging his fingers into your hips as you seat yourself on his cock. “Fuck, you take me so good.”

⟢ You plant your feet, bracing yourself on the sides of the tub, and start to move. The water rocks with your gyrating hips. Feed a cold, was it? Fine. You ride him with fierce, rolling motions, feeling the way his cock fills you and rubs everywhere inside that you crave most. Any other time, you’d be the one turned into a babbling mess under him. But today, he’s coming apart into the mess of slurred curses and praise as you grind down on his dick.

⟢ You don’t even have to do much, but you clench around him, alternate between slow and deep movements, then fast and shallow—all just to make him squirm. You’re moaning now, too, and you can feel yourself losing track of your thoughts as his cock hits you deep, but you cling to your senses just so Naoya can be the one going dumb for once.

⟢ “Fuck, I can’t—” is all he manages to grit out before he’s coming faster than you’ve ever seen him do. The moan he breaks apart into is so loud and desperate, it barely sounds like him. Heat spills into you, mixing with the bathwater and making you shudder. You’re certain Naoya’s currently too delirious and fucked-out to be properly humiliated by how quickly he blew his load, his hand spreading wide over your stomach as he breathes hard, head lolling back on the tile.

⟢ “Just a little longer, baby. You’re so good,” you purr, sliding one hand between your legs to circle your clit. You roll your hips, rocking his spent, still-thick cock inside you. Naoya’s moans are hoarse and whimpery as you wring the last dregs of pleasure out of him. His teeth scrape your shoulder, rasping out “fuck, fuck, fuck” against your skin, but he’s just a fucktoy at this point. You work your clit and use him as the heat builds in your belly until it snaps, and you cum clenching around him with a guttural moan.

⟢ After you ride out the aftershocks, you slump back against his chest, blood pumping in your ears. Naoya’s arms are just barely holding you, his grip slack, and he’s mumbling incoherent praise into your shoulder. His dick gives another feeble twitch inside you, as if to remind you of its presence. He’s trying to move, flimsily rocking up into you from underneath, but all his energy’s shot.

⟢ “See?” he rasps. “I’m completely clear now.”

He coughs, but this time, it’s not rattled with congestion. You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see it.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you out of the water before you come down with something worse than a cold and blame me for it.”

“It’s not a fuckin’ cold,” Naoya snaps as you pull off him slowly. “Now, hurry up so you can make it to the supermarket before they close. I want rice porridge for dinner.”

[cactusvolumes]

Advantage (N.Z.)

Synopsis: Naoya is your fuck ass ex, and he's decided he wants you back - but the only way he knows how to beg is with his wallet. Who are you to say no to that?

Tags/Warnings: Naoya x F!Reader, exes, mean!reader, a little toxic, pathetic!Naoya, university au

Word Count: 1,428

Notes: Another entry to the positivity train for @dreaslv, nominated by @yoonsucks. Lovely to meet you Drea, enjoy the fic!

You and Naoya had been together for the most painstaking ten months of your life. It’d been fun at first, having the most well known misogynist on campus at your side, and watching how he faltered spouting his ideology when you were standing beside him. The way his words would soften, his voice falter. As if he was determined to somehow impress you while simultaneously not changing. His only real redeeming qualities had been the sex and the money, which you weren’t ashamed to admit, not by a long shot.

You’d been split up for a month when the gifts started arriving.

They started small, simple things, never with a note or explanation. You knew exactly who they were from, from the very moment the first item arrived. But you said nothing. You didn’t contact him, didn’t so much as look up if you saw him on campus out of the corner of your eye. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

A hot drink arrived on your desk in a lecture hall, delivered by a poor younger student who clearly was terrified. You’d given the poor kid another 500 yen as an apology for ever having to do it at all. This one did come with a note, hastily stuck to the side.

‘Come find me after class, you know where’

You certainly did know where, and you had no intentions of going to find him.

Sure enough, the gifts the next day were larger, more expensive. They only seemed to increase in value the longer you ignored him for and you truly had to wonder what his plan was. He couldn’t keep going forever, even Naoya Zenin would run out of money eventually, and ignoring him was only benefiting you. Why would you ever get into contact with him?

Until the day your laptop died. Right in the middle of class, without warning or explanation. You didn’t have the cash to get it fixed yourself, and usually you’d have just asked Nao- and that was when it hit you.

Why let him shoot in the dark? Give the man a target.

So you met up with him. He’d been ‘casually’ hanging around at the place where the two of you used to meet after class, so you could go together to someone’s apartment or another location, waiting for the day you’d finally show up. He perked up when he saw you, but immediately tamped it down again. Just not fast enough for you to miss it. You walked up and dropped down onto the bench beside him with a sigh, saying nothing. Neither did he for a long while. You knew which of you would break first.

“It took you long enough.” Naoya finally said, clearly restless. “You hadn’t given me a good enough reason to bother.” You carelessly replied, and that obviously ruffled him. He fidgeted for a moment, trying to find his footing. “Well? What exactly is a good enough reason?” He demanded. How bothered he was by the thought of you not being satisfied by what he’d been doing only seemed to increase over time, a red tint flushing the tips of his ears. You just shrugged.

Naoya pushed off the bench, pacing in front of you, huffing like an angry bull. You’d laugh in another circumstance, but you came here with a mission.

“My laptop broke today. In the middle of class, no warning.” You remarked after a moment, once he’d stopped still, head in his hands as he thought of what he was supposed to do next. “What? Broke?” He asked, and if he were a dog you were sure his ears would be perked with interest. “Yeah. Screen went dark and it wouldn’t come back on, even when I plugged the charger in.”

He said nothing, just expectantly held out his hand. You gave him your laptop.

“I’ll have it fixed. I’ll give you a spare tomorrow to use in the meantime.” He said, then turned on his heel and walked away.

Hook, line, and sinker.

You got your laptop back four days later, not only in perfect working condition but with a few little upgrades to help it run faster. It must’ve cost him a fortune.

Good.

You went right back to ignoring him, and yet he just kept trying, like a little chihuahua on a leash begging for your attention. It would be pitiful, if you cared enough to pity him. Your friends all noticed, and though one or two of them remarked that they thought you were just being cruel now, nobody stopped you. He’d said something cruel about each of them at least once, so who were they to interfere with your master plan?

You’d been sitting in your dorm room, your favourite artist playing loud over your bluetooth speaker, the one Naoya had always complained when you played, as you pondered your next move. You wanted to humiliate him, the social equivalent of getting on his knees and crawling. The ding of your phone went ignored the first time, but the second time it piqued your interest. Who the hell was texting you?

Toji Fushiguro.

Picture a light bulb over your own head. You knew exactly what your next move was going to be.

T: Heard you finally ditched Naoya Y: What’s it to you? T: Thought you might like to sample a better example of what those genes are capable of

Oh he was a bastard - you were in.

You indulged Naoya again, going to that ridiculous meeting spot, once again managing to talk him in circles for a little while as you simply watched in amusement as he became increasingly frustrated by the entire situation. Then you dropped the bomb - you had something important coming up, and you needed a whole new outfit. He had your wishlist open in minutes, and handed you his phone to pick out and order what you wanted. He didn’t check what you’d ordered - rookie error - just let it happen, and let you walk away.

The package arrived right on the day of your date with Toji, and thankfully everything fit perfectly. You’d never looked so good. A little black dress, a pair of heels to match, and you spent far too long on your makeup to be reasonable. But you needed to look perfect. You posted a selfie to your story just before leaving to meet with Toji, just to drive Naoya insane.

The date was nice enough, nothing special, and it was clear the both of you knew it was going precisely nowhere. You didn’t even fuck him, which you’d been vaguely intending to do - he was hot after all, you weren’t blind to that. But the picture you took of your hand in his on the table was enough, posted to your story once you got home, no mention of who you were with or where, but sure enough Naoya was in your DMs almost immediately.

N: Is that who I think it is? N: In the clothes I bought for you? N: At the restaurant we go to? N: With my cousin? N: You have no dignity N: Or decency N: I’m not sure what I ever saw in you N: You’re not even that attractive N: I won’t demand back the things I gave you, I have no use for them nor do I want things you’ve touched in my space N: Never contact me again N: Ridiculous

He didn’t block you though, no, you knew he’d be back. So you said nothing.

It took two hours.

N: Just stop ignoring me damnit N: What more am I supposed to do? N: I’ve done everything you’ve asked N: And didn’t ask N: All your favourites N: Without ever approaching you N: No I wait like a fool for you to come to me because I’m supposed to N: Stop fucking ignoring me

Just for fun, you chose that moment to go take a shower. Let him sit just that little bit longer. You, of course, came back to more messages.

N: I need you N: It’s not the same when it’s other women N: Let me come over one more time Y: Say please

You were sure that Naoya Zenin had never once said please in his life. You were going to be the one to break him, to force him to change that.

N: Fuck N: Please Y: [User has screenshotted chat] Y: [User has blocked Naoya Zenin]

That went up on your instagram story too. Victory tastes oh so sweet.

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable @queenmimi2817 @hellkaiserinphoenix @gojosbigboobies @yoonsucks @fanaticsnail @yuurivalr

If you'd like to tip me you can head over to my Kofi

[strawberryrosey]

Naoya Zenin- nsfw alphabet

A- Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Naoya’s definitely not the type to check up on you. I think he would be a lot more focused on himself than you. After sex, he’ll leave you exhausted alone in bed. Naoya would shower, put on fresh clothes, and get something to drink without considering you. Right after his aftercare he’ll absolutely come back expecting another round.

B- Body Part (Their favorite body part)

Naoya’s favorite part of you is any space he can have control over. He loves your hands. When he fucks you missionary he’s really into locking your hands above your head. You’re unable to move and have no choice but to submit. He gets off to seeing you helpless. Naoya is also a fan of your neck. Often liking to bind his hands around it hard enough that you might pass out.

C- Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He loves to cum all over your face the most. Especially when you’re giving him the blow job. He’s the kind of guy to pull out of your mouth without warning for a second to cum all over your face; while claiming that it was an accident. “Oops, that wasn't supposed to happen. Clean yourself up with your fingers.”

D- Dirty Secret (Dirty Secret of Theirs)

He loves being called “Daddy” or “Master”. He’ll make you say it for him. Such as “Who is the one that’s fucking you this good?” “Oh, you want it harder? What’s the magic words?”

E- Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Naoya has definitely fuck other women before. But nearly all of these women had a hard time orgasming. Naoya hardly knows anything about the female anatomy. He knows about boobs and your pussy. But he struggles to find your clit and doesn't care enough to look for your G-spot. His logic is that if he fucks you, you’ll cum. Even though he can't find your most sensitive regions.

F- Favorite Position (Do I even have to explain?)

His favorite position would be doggy style. He loves how much your ass and boobs giggle at the harshness of his thrust. He would pull your hair as hard as he could to make you arch your back as far as you possibly can.

G- Goofy (Are they serious? Humorous?)

Naoya is definitely serious during sex. He doesn't seem like a light-hearted person.

H- Hair (How well groomed are they?)

Naoya is very well-groomed. He prefers it neat, so he trims it himself. The little hair that is down there is also dyed blonde. He’ll definitely be repelled if his partner has a bush. He would force you to get rid of it.

I- Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Often Naoya is more focused on his own pleasure than yours. This man will be preoccupied with making himself cum without thinking about how to make you cum. A lot of the time, he slides himself in you without making you wet and prepared enough to take his cock.

J- Jack Off (Masturbation Head canon)

He doesn’t need to jerk off. You will automatically be his helping hand. Why do it when he has your soft, gentle, pristine hands to rely on?

K- Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He loves to degrade you. You're his “slut”, “whore” “" slave, “Cum Dumpster”. Naoya also likes bruising you across your hands or neck when choking you too hard during sex. He sees it as a way of marking you as his. Something you’ll look at the mirror and think about how you belong to him.

L- Location (Favorite Place To Fuck You)

He only wants to do it in the bedroom. No way in hell he’s risking anyone seeing you in such a vulnerable position. He’ll remind you that seeing you naked and under him is for his viewing pleasure only.

M- Motivation (What turns them on, what gets them going)

Nothing out of the ordinary. If I had to say one thing that turns him on, it's whenever you don't always listen to him. Such as during a fight, being independent, that you’re capable of standing up for yourself. He sees that as him needing to put you in your place. He’ll want to fuck you in order to drill it into you that you’re not the one in charge around here.

N-No (Something they wouldn’t do, their turn-offs)

He doesn't do submissiveness. Don’t think you can change his mind. Riding him or face-sitting is a big NO. Pegging? Bitch please, absolutely not.

O-Oral (Preference, in giving or receiving, skill)

Naoya prefers to be on the receiving end. He’s thrilled by having your knees working his cock into your mouth. He’ll purposely thrust upwards to feel you choke around him as he relentlessly pulls on your hair.

P-Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

It depends. Naoya will move slowly when he knows you’re about to cum just to torture you. He can be rough when he wants you to get overstimulated and overwhelmed.

Q-Quicke (Their opinions on quickies, how often,)

Naoya would rather take your time with you. He hates being in a rush. If he needed something quick then your hand wrapped around his cock would immediately satisfy him.

R-Risk- (Are they open to experiment? Do they take risks?)

Naoya isn’t that much of an experimenter. He’s not interested in trying new things in the bedroom.

S-Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

He can go hours on end fucking you. You can be on the verge of passing out and Naoya would still have all the adrenaline racing through his veins he needs to fuck you until he blacks out hours later. He’s not stopping until his cum is leaking from your used cunt. His cum runs down to your thighs to the bottom of the bed sheets.

T-Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On their partner or themselves?)

Naoya doesn't own any toys. If he had toys, then he would feel like he was not the one giving you pleasure. If he were to use toys, then they would only be used to tease you. Such as him placing a vibrator on your clit and turning the thing off as you’re about to cum.

U-Unfair (How much they tease you)

He’ll tease and edge you to the point where you cry out of frustration. Don’t think you’ll be able to tease him back though.

V-Volume (How loud are they, what sounds do they make)

I think that Naoya would be more on the vocal side. The closer he gets to finishing the louder his moans get. He wants you to know that he feels good fucking you. Naoya also likes it when you’re loud too. Especially when you’re moaning his name. The louder you are, the rougher and faster Naoya gets.

W-Wild Card (A random headcanon)

Aren't all of these technically random headcanons?

X-Xray (What underneath his pants looks like, aka dick size )

Naoya is mostly average. He’s not necessarily big but not small. He’s longer than he is wide. Naoya isn’t cut.

Y-Yearning (How high is their sex drive)

It’s on the higher side. Naoya believes that it’s your job as a woman to give him sex. You’re not allowed to refuse. Sex as he views it, is a need, not a want. If you decline, then prepare for the consequences. Good luck.

Z-Zzz (How quickly are they to fall asleep)

Naoya wouldn’t fall asleep for a while. He’s not the type of person to cuddle you or want to snuggle up after sex. When he eventually falls asleep in bed, he will sleep a few spaces away from you and face the opposite direction to not look at your face.

[s-uwu-kuna]

naoya zen'in ୨୧ free-use fantasies

by s-uwu-kuna

warnings: explicit content mdni!, mentions of free-use/cnc, dom!naoya, sub!reader

୨୧ free-use!Naoya who spies on you. he'll palm himself through his hakama, watching as you complete mundane tasks like dishes, laundry, or other wifely duties. knowing that he has a live-in whore whenever he needs one is his favorite aspect of marriage with you. two tits and three holes, that's all he needs...

୨୧ free-use!Naoya whose baseline expectation is for you to drop to your knees whenever he enters the room. he says nothing? get ready to give him one of your holes. he tells you to resume what you were doing? get ready for his playtime--and then you'll open up for him...

୨୧ free-use!Naoya who scares you into thinking you've done something wrong--just because it gets you wet. even if he has no plans to use your cunt in that moment, he wants you constantly wet for him.

୨୧ free-use!Naoya whose hands are fast. he squeezes a tit with one, and threads the other between your thighs before you even know he's there. his favorite: gripping your windpipe--jusssst enough to feel the vibration of your whimpering under his palm.

୨୧ free-use!Naoya who uses your mouth when you talk too much, who uses your asshole when you forget a chore, who uses your cunt most often, commanding you to be good and bear him a son...

୨୧ free-use!Naoya who loves it when you go non-verbal from how good he's fucking you. your incoherence is endearing to him. his silly, weak, submissive little wife...is his favorite plaything.

୨୧ free-use!Naoya who gets off when you cry for him. whether tears of pain from his thick hand on your ass, tears of fear when he reprimands you in that low, mean voice... or tears of joy--from him rewarding you with clit-play after hours of denial. he wants you soaking in a mess of tears and cum by the time he's through with you...

୨୧ free-use!Naoya who cums heavy and often, roughly filling whichever hole he's bullying, or coating you in his seed as if it's the only thing keeping you pretty. he usually leaves you hanging on the edge of your own release, needy and wanting...

୨୧ free-use!Naoya who jokingly told you once that this rule goes both ways. that he's your husband and you also have free-reign over him as his wife. he never expects you to act on his jesting...

୨୧ free-use!Naoya who's reluctant at first, when you finally work up the confidence to be the initiator. his comfort zone is being in charge, and lording over you. he suddenly finds that his cock likes it when you give him gentle commands, sitting on his handsome face in 69...suffocating him with that perfect pussy while your hands and mouth work his shaft... he lets his little wife take the reins sometimes--only until he cums.

୨୧ masterlist ୨୧ Copyright © 2026 by @s-uwu-kuna ୨୧ banner by @/ilameys ୨୧ divider by @/pixopix

[animehideout]

This is an odd request because most people hate him. But if you are OK with it could you please do the sfw alphabet for naoya?

𝙽𝙰𝙾𝚈𝙰 𝚉𝙴𝙽𝙸𝙽 𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝙰𝙻𝙿𝙷𝙰𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚂

𝐇𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐰 ✨𝐈'𝐌 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐑✨

𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧.

‎ᴀ: ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ‎(ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴡꜱ ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ?)

‎Naoya wouldn't show affection in a gentle or tender way. His version of affection is possession and claiming you entirely.

‎He would be the only one who decides when to be affectionate, every touch and move are dictated by him.

‎In private, when no one is around, he wouldn't be soft with you, but very controlling. He grips you wrist to pull you against him, forces your chin up to make you look at him, or just grab you by the neck to kiss you when he's in the mood. His touch screams possession rather than love and comfort.

‎In public, he shows no affection at all. Actually, he wouldn't allow you in public, where other men could be. But if you happened to be there, then he would  keep you too close, always standing or sitting behind him.

‎To remind you and remind others where you belong.

‎

‎ʙ: ʙᴀʙɪᴇꜱ‎ (ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ?)

‎Absolutely, Naoya would definitely want a wife and children. Not for "Marrying the love of my life ❤️" reason, but to continue his bloodline and legacy.

‎For him, settling down means producing heirs, sons,  specifically.

‎He would see you as a reproducing machine. He wouldn't help you during your pregnancy, and would likely mock your cravings. Even during labor, he wouldn't offer comfort. He believes that pregnancy and childbirth are your ultimate purpose in life, so he wouldn't empathize with you when you're in pain and would tell you to stop overreacting.

‎If you gave birth to a son, he would be the happiest and might reward you with something expensive. But if it's a daughter, then he'd blame you, insult you and treat you as a failure for not giving him what he wanted.

‎He would be that strict, unquestioned head of the family, the one in control.

‎Also you would notice the unfair treatment between his sons and daughters.

‎

‎ᴄ: ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇꜱ (ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ?)

‎Cuddling happens only when he's in the mood for it.  Also it's not really cuddling, but basically him laying on his back and then pull you to lay your head on his chest. You should be the one clinging to him, accommodating to the position he wants.

‎His hand would be loosely draped over you. If you dare to move an inch, his fingers would dig into your skin, "Stay still".

‎There would be no affirmation, no sweet nothings whispered in your ear, he's either laying there with you in complete silence or just him speaking of his plan as the future head of Zenin clan.

‎

‎ᴅ: ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ (ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄʜɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ?)

‎I feel like Naoya would focus only on HIS dreams and goals; which is becoming the head of Clan.

‎He's the type to neglect your dreams. He sees his ambitions as the only ones that matter.

‎If there's a shared dream then probably is starting a family because he wants an heir for his legacy.

‎He wouldn't support you to achieve your dreams, actually he would force you and manipulate you into letting go of your ambitions and tell you that the only dream you should have is to become his future wife and to carry his child.

‎

‎ᴇ: ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢꜱ (ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʜɪᴍ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ?)

‎Basically, ending the relationship means ending you.

‎If you're a threat to his pride and power then he will end all. If he ever found out you're mentally, physically and emotionally stronger than him, then he'll try to break you, mold you into what serves him. If you refuse, show any slight disobedience then he would literally end you.

‎Also if you don't meet his expectations physically as his partner, then he'd break up with you.

‎

‎ꜰ: ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ( ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ)

‎First date with Naoya is an evaluation, an audition, a test of whether you suit him as his future wife / partner or not.

‎Your first date with him would be formal, traditional and intimidating. It would take place in a private space within the Zenin clan borders.

‎He wouldn't take you out; no romantic dinner or flowers.

‎Also he wouldn't care about your likes and dislikes, if you are physically attractive and willing to obey him then you pass the test.

‎Also he is very judgmental and cold, so no sugarcoating, would carelessly point out things about you, embarrass you and even insult you.

‎Also no flirting. The nicest thing he could say is "I suppose you're good enough to be my wife"

‎

‎‎ɢ: ɢɪꜰᴛꜱ ( ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ɢɪꜰᴛꜱ ʜᴇ ɢɪᴠᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ?)

‎His gifts are expensive.

‎Naoya's gifts are never personal or meaningful to you. They're not for your pleasure it's for his.

‎He buys you expensive jewelry; earrings, necklaces, hairpins, dresses.. things that DECORATE you, and make you look proper.

‎His gifts are to make you fit his ideal of being a submissive and attractive woman for his eyes only of course.

‎His gifts' aim is to shape you into the perfect wife image.

‎

‎ʜ: ʜᴏʙʙɪᴇꜱ ( ʜᴏʙʙɪᴇꜱ ʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏꜱ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ?)

‎I feel like Naoya would want to watch him enjoying his hobbies rather than you participating with him.

‎He would make you sit in his private training area as he spars with someone, show off his skills and jujutsu techniques.

‎He would have you as his audience, just to admire him, pay attention to him, praise him.

‎However, he wouldn't have time or patience for your hobbies. If you want to show him something new you've learned or a new hobby, he wouldn't really give a shit.

‎

‎ɪ: ɪᴍᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ( ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ɪᴍᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ʜɪᴍ?)

‎Well, you would be very hesitant to meet him since his reputation is a mile ahead of him.

‎When you meet him, he's not different from what you heard about him and maybe worse.

‎He dominates the conversation, talks mostly about himself, his strengths and his abilities, basically flexing.

‎He is very egocentric, inconsiderate, sharp-tongued, brutally honest, narcissistic and with a serious superiority complex.

‎He would interrupt you as you speak, without apologizing of course. Throw harsh comments without thinking twice.

‎

‎‎ᴊ: ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ ( ɪꜱ ʜᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱ ᴛʏᴘᴇ? ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀʟꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛ?)

‎Naoya is 100% the jealous type.

‎His jealousy doesn't originate from love or emotional attachment, but from control and possession.

‎You are not allowed to speak or look at other men.

‎If someone dares to approach you, he's intimidate them with that look in his eyes, he would also humiliate them, "Isn't obvious who you're talking to ? Or you're just naturally retarded?"

‎If you talk to another man, he's give you a warning look, telling you that he will punish you later.

‎He expects absolute obedience and loyalty from you.

‎His jealousy is just violent, smothering and toxic. Not the 'it's because I love you' type but the 'you only belong to me type'.

‎He wouldn't hesitate to kill a man in front of you if he ever made you laugh.

‎

‎ᴋ: ᴋɪꜱꜱᴇꜱ ( ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ᴋɪꜱꜱᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ?)

‎His kisses are dominant and rough when he's so into it.

‎He's the type to grab your neck or jaw to fix you in place.

‎He's very controlling as well, tilts your head however he likes.

‎If he's done then he'll pull away without taking your feelings into consideration.

‎Never praises and never admits he enjoyed the kiss, would say something like "That's all you're getting"

‎But if you pulled away first to breathe, then you hit his pride.

‎He would grab your face violently and crash his lips onto yours, saying "I didn't tell you to stop".

‎

‎ʟ: ʟᴏᴠᴇ ( ʜɪꜱ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ?)

‎Naoya doesn’t have a traditional love language; for him, love is just another tool of control.

‎He doesn’t express affection tenderly it's just 100% toxic. He shows love by claiming you, controlling you and ensuring you remain his.

‎In his mind, possession is the only love he need.

‎

‎ᴍ: ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ( ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ )

‎Naoya grew up as a spoiled brat, he would never lift a finger.

‎He would wake up late and expect you to prepare breakfast in bed for him. Naoya believes that it's your job and unquestionable duty as his wife to spoil him and accommodate him.

‎He's the type to expect everything to be ready for him; his outfit picked and folded beside him, his cologne already set out.

‎He also expects you to to help him get dressed, apply his cologne and even kneel to help him with his shoes.

‎Mornings with him are the worst, just him acting like some annoying spoiled royalty.

‎

‎ɴ: ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ( ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ )

‎At the end of the day, if Naoya allowed you to touch him, it's because he's in the mood for a shoulders or back massage.

‎He'd tilt his head slightly, signaling for you to get your hands on his shoulders or wherever he decides so you can start massaging his muscles ( after a long day of being a total douchebag ).

‎If you're not doing it right, he'll get irritated and tell you to do it properly or he'd dismiss you coldly like, "Enough, leave".

‎He also expects you to remove his shoes, and even wash his feet and give them a massage.

‎He wouldn't thank you, he genuinely thinks his comfort is your ultimate role as his wife.

‎

‎ᴏ: ᴏᴘᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ( ɪꜱ ʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ? )

‎Very oppressive, over-controlling, overprotective, suffocating and possessive.

‎If you're his? Then don't expect any breathing room. He'd dictate every move, every glance, every word.

‎He would choose who you spend time with when he's busy and for how long. ‎Of course, no men allowed to be around you only women of the clan.

‎When he's around then he expects your full undivided attention. Nothing should distract you from him.

‎"Don't you dare leave my side"

‎

‎ᴘ: ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ ( ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ )

‎He wouldn't go for the cute playful pet names, but something that shows he claims your body and mind. Something that shows you're a property for him to enjoy.

‎"My prize" "My treasure" "Woman" "Mine" "Object of my desire"

‎

‎‎Q: Qᴜᴀʟɪᴛɪᴇꜱ ( ʜɪꜱ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴀᴅ Qᴜᴀʟɪᴛɪᴇꜱ )

‎Well this man is a walking black flag.

‎He has literally only two good qualities:

‎1) He's highly skilled and has impressive fighting skills ( he would definitely keep you safe ).

‎2) He is very observant and notices small details.

‎For the bad qualities, well buckle up:

‎1) Very entitled and arrogant, expect you to bend to him and fear him as a husband and head of the clan.

‎2) Very dominant in a toxic way.

‎3) Very prideful and narcissistic. He wouldn't apologize even if he's at fault.

‎4) Very possessive over you. He would accuse you of cheating just because another man said good morning to you and you chose to answer him.

‎5) Emotionally unavailable. He believes men are rational and superior humans who are meant to rule and nor be bound by feelings.

‎6) Very critical. He would judge you without taking your feelings into consideration.

‎7) A spoiled brat, who thinks the world revolves around him.

‎

‎ʀ: ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴꜱɪʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇꜱ ( ʜɪꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴꜱɪʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅꜱ ʏᴏᴜ )

‎His version of responsibility towards you is basically reinforcing the idea that he's your superior, protector and head of the family.

‎Naoya would keep you safe and always within the clan's borders, because he believes you're weak and incapable of protecting yourself.

‎Also he believes he is responsible if educating you and correcting you so you can meet his expectations ( if he's patient enough ).

‎

‎ꜱ: ꜱᴀᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ ( ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ꜱᴀᴅ? )

‎To be honest, I feel like he doesn't handle your emotions like sadness very well.

‎He might see them as a sign of weakness and a problem that should be fixed asap.

‎It would piss him off if you're sulking all day.

‎The best thing he could say is "Stop that, there's nothing to be sad about, is it?"

‎But if he's being the real harsh version of himself, "Stop wasting time feeling sorry for yourself, that's pathetic. You're the wife of Naoya Zenin, always remember that"

‎

‎ᴛ: ᴛᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ ( ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴀꜱᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ? )

‎His teasing is ruthless. He would bring you down to lift himself up. If you make a slight mistake he would instantly notice, leave a comment and then laugh at you.

‎You accidentally spilled your drink ? He'd smirk and say "Come on, you don't know how to hold a cup?"

‎You mispronounced a word? He'll joke about it "Seriously? Do you even know how to speak properly?"

‎If you trip or stumble, he'd hold you in place, just to show he's stronger than you, "You can't survive without me".

‎If he's physically teasing you, it's basically him overpowering you and laugh as you struggle in his grip.

‎If you managed to to escape his grip, he's get pissed off by play it cool and say that he went easy on you, because you're fragile.

‎

‎ᴜ: ᴜɴɪQᴜᴇ ( ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴜɴɪQᴜᴇ ᴏʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜɪᴍ? )

‎He's a ragebait grandmaster.

‎Naoya mastered ragebaiting as a hobby and he's actually infuriatingly good at it.

‎He knows exactly what to say or do to get under anyone's skin, just for his own amusement.

‎He enjoys watching people lose their shit and crashout because of him.

‎If you're his partner then congrats, you're his first and favorite victim, you're getting ragebaited on a daily basis.

‎He would manspread and smirk knowing how much he drives you crazy.

‎

‎‎ᴠ: ᴠᴜʟɴᴇʀᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ( ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ʜᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ᴠᴜʟɴᴇʀᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ɪɴ ꜰʀᴏɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ? )

‎Naoya would never be vulnerable in front if you or anyone else. For him, showing any emotion is a risk to lose the control he has over people.

‎So instead, he hides behind smirks, sharp insults. He would never admit any feelings  expect disgust or hate, something that shows he's better than other. Any other feelings stay hidden even, he won't even admit them to himself. He sees Vulnerability as weakness. So when he's feeling down he'd snap at you, or kick you out of the room until he figures out what's wrong with him.

‎

‎ᴡ: ᴡᴇᴅᴅɪɴɢ ( ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴘᴏꜱᴇꜱ ? )

‎A traditional wedding. Everything would be already planned within the clan, so no romantic proposal.

‎when Naoya decides to upgrade you to the wife title, he would choose the date himself, tell the clan to plan accordingly then later informs you that you'll become his wife. The ring already bought, picked by him of course.

‎Everything was dictated by him, from the ceremony, to your appearance everything on your wedding day would reflect his taste, pride and status.

‎He would make sure you look luxurious and flawless, as you're not just a bride, but now a symbol of him.

‎

‎x : xᴛʀᴀ ( ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ )

‎His hair is sacred.

‎He treats his hair better than he treats you or people around him.

‎His image is everything, so he should always look good and better than everyone else.

‎He's low-key obsessed with his hair, he ruffles it constantly because he knows he looks hot when he does it.

‎Naoya runs his fingers through his hair multiple times a day, pushing it back then he lets it fall again.

‎Also, note that no one is allowed to touch his hair. If someone did, oh boy that's the fastest way to get their hands chopped off. You're an exception of course, he won't chop your hand but still you have to ask for his permission or even beg him to let you touch his hair. ( He loves it when you beg for him )

‎

‎ʏ: ʏᴜᴄᴋ (ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴛᴇꜱ ɪɴ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜ )

‎Naoya hates it when other people especially other men in the clan, show weakness, when they’re pathetic, insecure, or needy, he sees them as failures, and it boils his blood.

‎What he hates most in you is when you become overly emotional, when you cling and smother him with too much love. It makes him cringe inside. To him, love is a tool, not a need.

‎

‎ᴢ: ᴢᴏᴏ‎‎ ( ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ʜᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴘᴇᴛꜱ? )

Noaya doesn’t have time for cuddly pets. Instead, I feel like n, he’d keep something fierce, like a wild cat, something that reflects him, that he's dangerous, the one in control, and must be feared by everyone.

[alizha]

WHY HIM? - or, sleeping with Naoya Zenin is the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done

featuring: naoya zenin x fem!reader word count: 1.7k contents: n/sfw, explicit sexual content, 2nd person pov, no use of y/n, mild dubcon ig bc of drunk sex, post-nut clarity lmaoo

masterlist

At first, everything you had heard about Naoya Zenin was merely hearsay. It wasn’t flattering hearsay, to be sure. The Zenin clan was full of unpleasant men; everyone knew that much. Their heir, apparently, was one of the worst.

“Don’t really know him,” Satoru had said once with a shrug. Satoru Gojo had been an upperclassman of yours at Tokyo Jujutsu High. Then, maybe thinking he shouldn’t downplay things after all, he added, “Our clans’ve got a lot of bad blood between us, you gotta understand. So, it’s not like I hang out with the guy. But I’d stay away from him, if I were you.”

The politics of jujutsu society had always seemed rather tiresome to you. There was no real reason, as far as you could see, to involve yourself with the big, elite clans. The Zenin were based in a different prefecture and were more affiliated with the sister school in Kyoto. And god helped whichever unlucky soul ended up catching the Gojo heir’s eye. All in all, being a participant in clan matters sounded like more trouble than it was worth.

Suffice it to say, you weren’t really expecting to cross paths with Naoya Zenin anytime soon.

That spring, you’d been pursuing a semi-grade one curse from a mountain village, where it’d been left to fester for too long. By the time you had tracked its patterns and narrowed down its location, it had very clearly outgrown the initial estimate of its grade. What had once been manageable for one sorcerer now required two, which would have been inconvenient enough on its own. Unfortunately, the curse had also crossed into Zenin territory.

The higher-ups contacted you that a clan representative was en route before you could even ask. Lo and behold, the man that appeared not long after (out of seemingly nowhere) was young and bleached blond, wearing a simple bomber over his black T-shirt and jeans—Naoya Zenin.

I’d stay away from him. Helpful advice, if you’d had any say in the matter. He looked nothing like the conservative, power-obsessed elite you imagined. There was no traditional robe, no austere heir-of-an-ancient-clan air about him. Just a regular guy who looked more like he’d stepped out of the nightlife district than the estate of one of the most powerful jujutsu families in Japan.

Perhaps more confusing still, he seemed perfectly normal. He wasn’t humble, but then, neither was Satoru. Naoya was easy to talk to and quick with his remarks. He seemed more amused by the politics surrounding the mission than invested in them. If anything, he treated the whole “Zenin territory” issue with a casual irreverence that made you wonder if half the stories you’d heard were exaggerations.

Naoya was, unfortunately, hot. The blond hair and the piercings were, admittedly, a little distracting. But beneath that, he had fine, sharp features and an athletic build and broad shoulders under that black shirt. And his voice had a bit of a lilt that immediately disarmed you whenever he spoke.

On the first day, he looked over, cocked his head at you, and asked, “You ain’t a student, are ya?”

“Graduated,” you replied. “A couple years ago.”

He’d hummed. “Same year as Satoru Gojo, then?”

You blinked. “No, he was an upperclassman.”

“Ah. Figures.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. “Nothin’. Just—if you were in his year, I’d probably remember you.”

You stared at him. “…Excuse me?”

The corner of his mouth lifted, ever so slightly. “Pretty thing like you?” Naoya said, tone almost offhand. “Woulda stuck.”

You flushed, heat prickling at the tips of your ears, and didn’t answer. You weren’t sure how to respond to that sort of line; you weren’t even sure if it was a line. You told yourself it didn’t matter because you’d signed up for cursed spirits, not clan heirs who gave you whiplash. So, you’d simply pressed on with the mission, trying not to let Naoya’s little faintly mocking smirk or the heat in your face distract you further.

It didn’t stop there, of course. The things he said often made you almost wonder if you’d hallucinated the words. You’d catch the tail end of a phrase, turn, and Naoya would be looking straight ahead like he hadn’t said a thing. Or he’d make some sly, half-buried comment about “girls from Tokyo” and follow it up with a perfectly respectable tactical suggestion. You kept catching yourself double-taking, as if maybe the mountain air was playing tricks on you.

Instead of overt arrogance or derision, Naoya lobbed offhand, teasing observations and compliments at you with the same casualness he seemed to reserve for kicking rocks down the trail. He was efficient. He took the lead when it made sense to make use of his incredible speed and fell back and covered you without complaint. The picture of the perfect colleague from a respectable family.

You spent the better part of three days tracking the curse together through the mountains. It was, in retrospect, the worst possible amount of time two reasonably compatible adults could spend working in close proximity while sleep-deprived and intermittently adrenaline-high from fighting something that wanted them dead. There were late-night discussions about strategy over convenience store coffee. The kind of half-serious arguments that happened when two competent sorcerers both thought their plan was better. The quiet camaraderie that formed when someone proved, repeatedly, that they could handle themselves in a fight.

In short, there was just enough time for you to make a catastrophic misjudgment. Because for those three days, Naoya Zenin behaved like a man whose reputation had been greatly blown out of proportion. He was even occasionally charming, in an offhand way that caught you off guard. Looking back, you would later conclude that the problem had not been that he’d deceived you. He’d simply been on his best behavior, and you’d woefully let your guard lapse.

The curse was exorcised on the third day. By every professional measure, the mission was a success. And that night, after a long day of fighting and far too little sleep, you made what you would come to regard as the single most regrettable decision of your short professional career.

You’d gone to his room. Just to talk, you told yourself at the time, though even then, it was a weak excuse. There were half a dozen rationalizations: you needed to debrief before returning your report, you had to discuss evidence you’d found, it was a courtesy to check if he’d been injured after the fight. All of it nonsense; both of you probably knew it.

He’d opened the door in sweatpants and a towel around his neck, hair still damp from the communal bath. He barely looked tired, despite the exhaustion in your bones. And the way his mouth quirked up when he saw you in the hallway made it immediately, painfully clear that he’d known you would come. There were beers from the corner store, a few too many that conveniently “needed to be finished” before you both checked out, and the next thing you knew, you were folded up under him with your ankles dangling over his muscled shoulders, writhing as he slowly ground the hard ridge of his cock against you.

You were so wet already, folds puffy from the embarrassingly little amount of preparation, that he sank into you without much trouble, stretching you wide enough to feel like you might break in half. You stayed quiet only as long as it took for him to get a rhythm going, and then, you couldn’t anymore. Not with the angle of his hips bullying the thick head of him straight into that sweet spot inside you that made your vision spark white.

Your fingers between your thighs where your bodies met brought you to toe-curling orgasm too many times for your beer- and adrenaline-addled mind to keep track of before Naoya finally pulled out and deliberately spilled all over your tits with a low, rough groan—perhaps the only sound he made during the whole session that wasn’t a filthy, murmured remark about what a good slut you were.

You woke up the next morning with your face pressed into a too-soft pillow, and a headache splitting your skull right between the eyes. Every muscle in your body ached with the telltale soreness of overusing both your cursed energy and your… other resources. The haze of pleasure had long receded, leaving only the clarity to set in with slow, creeping inevitability: you had made a terrible, possibly career-ending, mistake.

For a second, you allowed yourself to stay perfectly still. Maybe, if you didn’t move, you’d open your eyes and find yourself back in your own room, the whole thing a stress-induced hallucination. But unfortunately, you wouldn’t be let off that easy. You’d slept with Naoya fucking Zenin. Everything everyone had ever said about him came crashing back in that moment. True or not, to say the thought of anyone finding out was mortifying was an understatement at the very least.

You already knew, if Satoru, if any of your colleagues found out about this, you’d never hear the end of it. Possibly not for the rest of your professional life. You could already picture the reactions—the mocking, the teasing, the judgmental side-eyeing. You might as well confess to taking a low-grade curse as a pet. You tried to tell yourself it didn’t matter. Who would know? The mission had concluded. You would each report to the higher-ups and be paid for your trouble. Naoya would return to wherever the Zenin clan kept its heir, and you would go back to Tokyo. There was no reason this needed to become anything more than a private mistake between two people who would, with any luck, never see each other again.

For his part, Naoya didn’t act like it needed to be anything more than what it was. He treated the incident exactly as expected—like an inconsequential notch in his belt. Perhaps, you’d simply lost your intrigue now that he’d proven he could get in your pants. Not that you cared. It was for the best, though it would have been easier, you thought, if he’d been awful from the start. If he’d lived up to the rumors immediately and said something insufferable or arrogant or unmistakably Zenin enough to remind you that Satoru’s warning had not been hypothetical.

Well. Lesson learned. All you had to do was never see Naoya Zenin again.

a/n: lolll genuinely he's so embarrassing. thanks for reading!

[s-uwu-kuna]

Made For It -- one shot

part 04 of Life of a Zen'in Wife -- by s-uwu-kuna

pairing: naoya zenin x fem! reader

synopsis: naoya is reminded of how smart his wife is, and rewards her accordingly--with some dick... and some diamonds...

category: smut, fluff, some angst warnings: explicit content mdni!, everything is consensual, misogyny, strict dom!naoya, sub!reader, degradation k!nk, objectification k!nk, crude language, blow-j, deep throat, missionary, p in v, impact play (slap), breath play, nicknames (wifey + cum toy for reader, master for naoya), creampie, breeding kink, possessive naoya, naoya is your husband, naoya is his own warning, dead dove maybe idk word count: 3.5k author's note: i suffered greatly for this. naoya has me locked in his basement someone please h--- enjoy.

jjk masterlist 💍 series index 💍 taglist: @alebrasil0101

Naoya was becoming a freak about his monitoring of you.

Over the past year or so, he started tracking your periods on his phone, ordering you “fertility-boosting” foods, and adopting a more rigorous schedule for pumping you full…

Functionally, you were his broodmare. And as your stallion, that primitive part of his brain knew when you needed him.

You would lean into his touch more.

You scent would be stronger.

Your tits would swell.

…And you’d be more confident—more outspoken.

Whenever you were ripe and needy for him, Naoya knew.

As he tapped his tip on your wet, waiting tongue, smearing his pre all over it, he smirked…remembering how certain you sounded at the family meeting earlier in the day...

You were a born and bred corporate genius—Naoya knew that too already, based on your file when he first found you in his marriage prospects.

But that fact only ever made itself known when you truly felt the need to share it.

You saw something in the plans today that Naoya had missed.

Shareholder worries shook the Zen’in family table for nearly two hours as your husband went back and forth with his father and uncles. The problem was Naoya’s sector—speed and logistics.

In the fine lines of the deal’s documents, you saw it: new bargaining terms with the Zen’in port in Nanjing to increase shipping speeds—was the solution.

With a confident interjection over his shoulder, you saved the deal. Made it ten times better for the family than it would have been…with only Naoya’s eyes on it.

…

From the same luscious lips that were wrapped around his shaft now—came wisdom worth more than diamonds.

…

As he started to fuck your throat, watching your swollen tits sway at his steady rhythm, Naoya pondered over you…

He was annoyed that he hadn’t gotten you pregnant yet.

Almost three years married, and no future successor—the whole purpose of marriage.

His father kept chastising him about it, and started to berate him in a way that was usually reserved for his idiot brothers. After your shining moment today in front of the whole Zen’in clan, the perpetually tipsy patriarch jested that you’d be joining the corporate team as a logistics consultant…before giving him a grandson...

Not on Naoya’s watch.

You were his wife—first and foremost.

You belonged in his house, right here…at his feet…servicing his cock…

“Open your throat, more… More… Good girl. Hold still…” he said calmly, focused on hinging your jaw just right.

You clasped your hands together behind your back, breathing steadily through your nose, letting him take his pleasure at whatever pace he wanted.

You’d been wet for him since the meeting this afternoon, when his hand crept up your thigh…after the topic of discussion switched from business to family matters…

Watching him now, with all his muscle rippling above you…and that stern tenseness in his jaw…your inner thighs were fucking drenched.

You wanted nothing more than to please him, to make him feel like the only man in the world…

…

Naoya was stressed…struggling to keep it up...

That should have been his idea.

He was supposed to be the brains.

You were supposed to be his obedient little breeder.

He wouldn’t punish you too much, though. After the meeting concluded, he actually rushed out to hand-pick and purchase a gift as a reward for you—because you just made the family a fuckton of money.

But before he gave it to you, he had to remind you—and himself—of your place.

Relieve himself of some of this pressure…

He started fucking your throat harder, threading his thick, spidery fingers into your hair, pulling you to meet his thrusts——!

“Hhhgghffmmnmff~!”

Your gurgling…your gagging…your tongue struggling around his girth…

Almost…

He was almost hard enough to fuck a load up into your cunt…

One more sharp thrust, and you coughed, lurching away and palming his thighs on instinct, straining for air…

Then, your tears.

—————!

Naoya smirked. That did it.

All 7.7 inches at attention.

Before you choked too much, he pulled out of your mouth, letting your head go. He chuckled as you coughed and caught your breath. You raised your hand up to your throat as if to ensure that it shrank back to normal size.

A double-tap of his thick palm on your cheek made your wet lashes flutter, and Naoya evenly commanded, “Up. On your back.”

…

You obeyed him, getting up and gingerly sinking into your shared bed’s plush cream duvet, still sniffling from that near-painful throat work.

Your husband stood at the edge of the bed, cupping under your ass and yanking your nude form closer to him, barely expending his strength.

Before he got to the main event, Naoya had to confirm his suspicions.

He knelt down, inspecting your apex, checking to see if his favorite fuck-hole was primed to do something useful with his seed…

……!

At a probing finger suddenly knuckle-deep inside you, you gasped, digging your nails into the duvet.

Naoya took a deep breath of your sweet, musky aroma…humming as he curled his digit, gathering some of your slick… It was clinical, the way he scooped your essence out for inspection. As quickly as it entered, his finger left you, and he held it up to the dim light of the chandelier above you both, playing with it between his thumb and finger…

Clear, gooey and dripping, like a snail…

He stuck his finger in his mouth.

“Mmmh.”

Like water.

Perfect.

Naoya stood to full height again, his now throbbing cock angrily vaulting at you.

He was mechanical, methodical with his spreading of your legs… The prodding of his tip against your clit, rubbing his length along your glistening folds to coat himself in you…

You watched him scrutinize your body, trying desperately not to cower and close your eyes.

But Naoya made it so hard…especially when he chose to go slow like this…

You had learned your husband’s patterns. He only chose missionary when he had too much on his mind. It always flustered you…realizing that watching your face was some kind of balm for his worries…

…

Once his tip was past your cunt lips, Naoya was quick to manhandle you into a lawn chair—but with your thighs spread too wide for comfort, on the sides of your torso. His hands wanted more of you, and his eyes wanted all of you.

He Looked down at your little bundle of nerves, watching it swell up and throb with need as he started to dip further and further inside you. Stretching you. Steady.

In contrast to your light whimpering, he exhaled quietly as he fully slid home.

He was focused. Meditative.

Diligent. Perfect control...

…!

A sudden pinning of Naoya’s pupils on yours under his heavy brow broke you from your focus on him.

You blinked.

He didn’t.

Like a hydraulic press, he slowly pressed his hands down against your thighs, pumping his length in and out of you more firmly…

And he silently stared you down.

Your heart started to ricochet, and under his glare——you caved…

Covering your face with your hands, and consequently your chest…

Shy.

Naoya huffed. A ghost of a smile.

Your selfish spouse often fucked you from behind, enjoying the feeling of handling your hips, pulling your hair, and bucking you into the mattress like a first place horse jockey...

But every now and then, while he split you open, Naoya would want to gaze upon your face, among other things…

“Stop hiding... And show me those tits…”

As he kept fucking you, you reluctantly surrendered, removing your hands from your blushing face and laying them on either side of your head.

He gathered your wrists in one strong hand, and pinned them above you, his eyes greedy in their feast of your quivering pout, and your jostling form…

Like a jackhammer set to slow, he started to pound you, pulling almost all the way out before slamming into you again, digging his knees into the edge of the bed to give him that perfect stability as he sped up.

“Look at you opening up for me…” he grunted, glancing down at his length disappearing and emerging from your crevice, more and more wet. “You were made to take this cock, weren’t you, wifey?” He smiled knowingly at your bashfulness.

You broke that brief eye-contact, tossing your head to the side. “Mmmh~! Yes, Naoya-sama…”

“Made just for me…” he punctuated with a heavy thrust, “Say it.”

!

“I was made just for you, Master!”

His hips kept yours anchored to the bed, making the headboard **thump, thump, thump~!** against the wall.

“Made for what?”

“Made to take your cock, Master!”

“That’s right… That’s right…” Naoya pushed himself fully inside of you and paused, making you squirm as his tip poked at your cervix. “Fuck, these tits…” He leaned down to suck at your jiggling breasts, licking up the salty sweat on the divots left by your discarded bra’s underwire…

He let go of your wrists, allowing you to play in his fresh blond dye-job as his lips appraised your soft flesh.

“Please, Naoya-sama…”

“Please, what?” he purred, closing his eyes as your fingers gently curled along his scalp. He slowed down, huffing your scent and rocking into you, applying pressure…

Breath shaking, you begged, “Please, Master, suck them…”

“Where, here?” he teasingly squeezed your tits together, sucking atop your cleavage.

“N-No~!” You tapped your curling toes against his back with frustration.

Naoya laughed darkly. “…No? Hmm… How ’bout here?” He sank his teeth into the squish on the side of your left tit, jusssssst enough to alert your nerves—!

“No—ahh~! Naoya-sama… Please…” You were trembling—so close!!

“Show me.”

He was so cruel…making you demonstrate under his devious eyes, what he already knew—very well—that you liked. “Here…” you cupped your aching tits, pinching your nipples gently and rolling them around.

He playfully poked at them both. “Here?”

“Yes~!”

“Like this?” He lowered his mouth to his favorite one, your left… A hot breath over your rucked-up nipple, and he slithered his tongue around it…slobbery and scalding…

“Yesyesyesplease—!”

With a chuckle, he finally captured your velvety bud in his mouth, making you arch into him and hold his head to you. He pressed his abs into your soft tummy, and rocked his hips against yours, his cock twitching at the way your spongey walls started to suck him in as he gave your bosom attention…

His other hand deftly twirling your right nipple between his fingers sent a shock straight to your cunt.

“Fuck, fuck, Naoya-sama~a~a!!”

…

That’s why he rarely gave your nipples relief.

It made you cum too quick.

…

You thrashed under him, wrapping your legs firmly around his torso, absolutely gushing all over his cock. It had been weeks since he last tongued your nips down…

You stood no chance.

Naoya knew it, too.

He knew you’d lose control.

Just as that orgasm piqued in your body, Naoya stopped his play with your tits, grabbed your throat, and———!

**smack!**

One hard slap across your cheek sent your face into the duvet beneath you. Your hair flung over your eyes, and you gasped—stunned into stillness, his hand effectively severing that ecstasy from your brain.

“Did I say you could cum?”

You sniffled…breath still heaving from that ruined orgasm… “N-No…”

Naoya’s cock twitched. “No what?”

“No, M-Mas-s-ster…” you mewled, the pain finally starting to register…

“Oh…my wife…” He smiled, grabbing your face and making you look at him, “Such a crybaby…”

You let the tears out then with a proper sob, and Naoya bit his lip, containing his excitement. In his head, he counted to ten before deciding his next move…

Just as you started to cry for real, Naoya’s grip on the sides of your neck tightened, smothering your voice...making you see stars…

And then he started fucking you harder…

Faster…

The rhythmic thumping of the headboard certainly alerting his servants of what their master was up to…

His voice and hot breath were at your nose—a rumbling taunt, “What are you?”

!

There was a laundry-list of things you could respond with… What was he in the mood for? His little slut? His needy whore?

No…that lingering sting on your cheek reminded you—you weren’t supposed to cum before him…

“I’m your personal cum-toy, Master!”

Naoya grinned. Right answer.

He fucked you faster. “Does a toy get to cum without permission?”

“N-No, Master… I’m sorry…I’m sorry~!” you sounded so pitiful…

“How will you apologize?”

Rushed and desperate with your answers, you conceded, “I’ll do whatever you want, Master!”

“Whatever I want?”

A heavy, deep thrust—a warning…

“Yessss~ Naoya-sama…” you squeaked out, voice breaking and straining without air…

He smirked, and leaned down to give your lips…just one kiss... “Who knew there was such wisdom in this pretty head?” he mused.

Your face was burning into a worrying rouge… Your eyes darting frantically between his eyes and his impish grin as he choked you and fucked you even faster… Your body starting to jerk under him—!

Your conscience screamed at you to beg and plead for mercy.…

…

You wouldn’t give in, though.

Yes, you had a safe word, and a safe tap-pattern if you couldn’t speak.

But you wouldn’t give in. Not this time. You wanted him to push you to your limit.

You trusted him—emphatically.

…

And that always drove Naoya crazy.

…

He couldn’t stop thinking about giving you his baby to carry—truly solidifying his ownership of over your body…

He wanted it…

He wanted it bad…

Just before you lost consciousness, he released your throat, and you gasped. Not giving you even two seconds to recover, he stood tall again, picking your lower half up, and widened his stance, fucking you so hard—your spine went soft.

With a yelp, you flopped helplessly against the duvet, ragdolling as Naoya had his way with you.

“Good girl, all mine…”

The sound of his now sticky thighs slapping against yours filled the bedroom made his jaw go slack. You were so open, so wet…glossy ribbons of your slick suspended between your thighs as he pulled out and pistoned into you again…and again…and again…

Fuck—you looked so perfect, giving in to him. Your cheek flushed with his handprint, eyes still overflowing with tears…messy mascara staining the bed by your face as he ruined you…

The supple, dewey skin of your curves embracing gravity, surely rivaling every carving of Aphrodite… So responsive under his fingers as he dug into your hips and thighs, making your own dainty digits tear holes into the duvet…

Making you moan and cry out his name…

That expression of sheer abandon…

You were truly letting go, putty in his hands…

…

Naoya was always reminded of your beauty when he had you on your back. That’s why he rarely fucked you face to face.

Early on in your marriage, he learned that he had to save missionary for when he was too stressed to keep it up.

Any other time—he’d cum too quick.

…

…He loved you this way…

…

And that was too much for him.

…

He was angling his hips now—hitting your spot on purpose——!

Fuck~! It was too good~!

!!

“Can I…p-please,” you were breathless, “M-Master? Please~!”

“Yeah…yes, cum on my cock!” Just as fucked-out, Naoya lost control of his resolve to deny that pretty face, he grit out “Let me feel how bad you need it!”

!

You didn’t waste time. “Ah—ah—ahh~!”

Naoya pressed inside you all the way, dropping your hips to the bed and giving you that dick like it was the last thing he’d do. You yelped with a smile and squeezed your eyes shut, succumbing to that orgasm oh so beautifully…

His eyes were glued to your face. Eating you up.

Fuck…his wife…

His wife…

A man crazed, Naoya watched you take it, every flutter of your lashes and bite of your lips and twitch of your hips registering in his brain like green numbers on a stock line.

All he did was win—with you.

…

With a heaving gasp, you came down, and he stopped before he lost himself.

He settled his weight on you.

Caught his breath.

Let you breathe.

Those endorphines long awaited, you started to cry again… Pure pleasure. Happy tears. “Thank you, thank you, Naoya-sama…God…”

Naoya’s heart…

You needed him so much…

He climbed onto the bed, scooting you upward as he went, and situating you in a mating press. He got up in your face again, making you listen to him through your blubbering…

“For the next three days, no meetings for you,” he panted out his declaration, shallowly pushing and pulling his length through your fluttering walls. “I’ll have the servants do the chores. You’re staying in this bed, keeping these hips up after I finish in you, and edging yourself. All day. Break for meals, and then you keep edging until I come home and fill you again. You understand me?”

“Yes, Master!” You would have agreed to a full week tied to the bed after that high he just gave you~!

“And no cumming without my permission. I’ll know. I always know. Send me a voice note and beg me over the phone if you want to cum.”

“Yes, Naoya-sama~!”

“That’s my good girl…”

Naoya’s tongue was enthused, filthy…licking into your moaning mouth as he kissed you… His hips matching that slow, deep rhythm…

He was givin’ it to you good…

Your sudden clenching made him break the kiss. “You wanna cum again?” he exhaled on your lips.

You nodded, cupping his face in your hands, boldly searching his eyes… “Yes, please!”

Oh…you were getting greedy, now…

He smirked. “Me, first. Hold still, wifey...”

Another heavy *thump, thump, thump~!** of the headboard against the wall, and Naoya rut into you, giving you all of his weight as your ankles trembled on his shoulders. He squeezed his muscled arms around you the same way your cunt squeezed his cock, making you feel so warm…

So secure…

His girth throbbed inside you heavily…slowly…his white-hot essence pumping and sticky from his tip at the deepest squeeze of your depths…

Naoya groaned in your mouth in triumph, overpowering your moaning, then kissing heatedly along your chin and neck…an eruption both tamed and untempered…

…

You were still crying for him, hips pathetically shifting under his solid weight, needing just a little more movement to finish you off…

After he fucked every last drop of him into you, He let go of your legs and reached between you to rub at your clit. He hummed as he felt your cervix relax on his tip, and started sucking his seed in...

“Naoya~!”

“I know, c‘m’on…”

——!

You saw stars again, sobbing from his generosity.

He kept his fingers going past your overstimulation, poking his softening length inside you until your spongey, vice-like walls milked him completely dry.

You were as wrecked as he wanted you to be, hair sticking to the tears on your face, tits dripping with both your sweat and his…

Stress now buried under his lust for you, Naoya was finally in a good mood again. As you came down again, he laughed at you, flicking your nipples and making you squirm for him through your panting.

Then he moved your damp hair away from your face and neck.

Sharp eyes boring into yours, he reached over you, flustering you…

And from under his pillow, he pulled out the glittering gift he got for you...

Over your nose, and with a proud smile, he dangled above you: a collar, with a ring for a leash—and its soft leather band…was completely encrusted…in diamonds.

Made custom. Just for you.

!!!!!

You blinked, pupils darting between the collar and Naoya’s smirk. “Are these real?”

“Tch. Of course they’re real. Who do you think I am?” He threaded the collar under your neck, and fastened it, then wiped some of your tears away.

“Diamonds—?” With reverence, your fingertips grazed over the jewels at your neck. “Naoya-sama…”

“Don’t get too excited. You’re only wearing this around me.” He tugged at the ring, pulling your whole upper half to meet his face. “And I’ll leash you whenever I feel like it—until you start to swell for me.”

Naoya’s declaration of pregnancy plans made your heart flutter. “Yes, Master. Thank you…”

Then, your hand found his face…

...That tender look you gave him had his cock jumpstarting inside you for round two.

Before you made his heart beat too hard…making him say something he couldn’t take back…

He grinned, and kissed you.

…!

**click!**

Naoya pulled away from that kiss, and tugged you fully up by the collar—with a pretty pink leash—making you chase his lips.

“Starting now. On your hands and knees...”

~

a/n: reader is gonna dominate naoya in the next part so buckle up (≖ᴗ≖ ✿) kkkkk~

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[sugurusbadhabit]

mdni 18+

Naoya finds himself in another clan meeting, elbow on the table, cheekbone resting on his fist, struggling to keep his eyes open as his elders drone on and on. He doesn't technically need to be here - all important information could be passed on second hand - but as his father had put it, "As the heir to the Zenin clan…" blah, blah, whatever.

He's trying, okay?

It's more of an effort than his brothers have ever put forth. He can get away with disinterested 'yep's and 'okay's as long as he keeps his eyes open and fights down the yawns that threaten to stretch his jaw open at any second.

He lets his mind wander to you and how if you were sat in his lap right now maybe he'd have more interest in being here. Maybe your body heat could keep him warm in this freezing fucking cold room. Maybe he could slip his fingers between your thighs under the table and nestle them right against that pretty little cunt until they warm back up.

You'd start squirming almost immediately, your panties soaked embarrassingly fast, composure slipping with each light brush of his fingers to your clit, he's sure. Your cheeks burning hot, trying to keep your breathing even as the sensitive nub throbs against his finger pads.

Maybe, if he's fast and sneaky enough, he could slide his cock right into your slippery pussy. A gross but worthwhile misuse of Projection Sorcery, that's all it would take, a little squeak from you the only indication that anything had happened.

He'd feign concern, ask if you're feeling alright, wait for you to nod in confirmation because of course you're feeling alright. You just came all over your husband's cock, how could you not be?

And while your walls are still milking him, his hands will grip your hips, moving them in little circles, letting his leaky tip nudge against your sweet spot. He'll be careful to not go too fast so you don't start audibly squelching around him. Don't want to embarrass you further in a room full of men you'll have to look in the eye later, now do we?

A light knock on the door brings Naoya back to reality. A servant enters a moment later and approaches him, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"Your wife is asking for you."

"If you'll excuse me," he says as he stands, hoping his pants are loose enough to hide the outline of his heavy, stiffened cock.

He nearly sprints through the estate to your shared bedroom where he finds you sprawled naked across your bed, fingers swirling over your puffy clit. He watches for a second before his brain catches up to him, sliding the door shut behind him and crossing the room to kneel between your spread thighs.

"Do you not have any shame?" He knocks your hand away just to slap his fingers harshly against your clit. He lets them slide lower to tease your entrance, slick already dripping out and staining the sheets below you. "Calling me away from an important meeting because what? Your pussy got too wet?"

Thank god, he would've died of boredom in there. You don't have to know that though.

"Can't keep doing this shit," he says trying to be stern but he's already burying his face in your cunt, licking broad stripes through your mess.

an: this isn't what i intended to write but here we are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ maybe i’ll write what i was actually aiming for another time.

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[spitdrinker]

18+ content below

Hakari that hate, hate, HATES how present you are in HIS girlfriend's life. Like if he knew any better, he'd assume you two were sharing her and that definitely not the case because he'd rather lose all his money than be connected to you in any way even indirectly. The only props he can give you is that you don't drink up all his booze. He doesn't know its because you think only bums drink all day.

"Rara," you pout, he'd also (never) admit that you had a pretty cute face, "can we go shooooooping, its so boooring here."

Kirara was never one to disappoint her best friend, you had her wrapped around your finger, probably in more ways than one. That didn't make Hakari mad, no, what made him mad was the way you'd spend his money and only thank Kirara. Again, two girlfriends with only half the benefits, he didn't want to fuck you per say, that was a lie, but maybe you could wipe that satisfied grin off your face. Maybe he should be the one to do it. Who knew that he was the impulsive type?

He sucks his teeth whenever you push through the door, he'd hope it was Kirara, but she was busier than usual today. Your reaction wasn't too different, groaning and throwing your head back dramatically at the realization that it's just him there. He just sucked in your opinion and he definitely didn't deserve Rara, the only positive to him was that he had money. Were you stoll bitter that he called you a loser? Well, yeah, it was rich coming from him!

"Fuckin' great, way to ruin my day with your ugly mug," You chide before huffing to take the seat furthest from him, "thought for once, you wouldn't be here."

There's bewilderment on his face, "Eh?! What are you on about? Its my club!?"

You roll your eyes, if there was one thing you were capable of doing, it was pissing him off. He wanted to blame Kirara, she had to have told you what really got under his skin, but maybe you were just a natural. You didn't act this whenever she was around, you were more pliant, cute even.

A heavy silence falls between you two, he's caught up in watching the screens and well, you're bored. And nothing fixes boredom like bothering one of the people that annoys the most. You could get him so pissed off at you that he yelled then you could cry and make him feel bad, maybe he'd even give you his card. Kirara had it saved to her phone and let you use it whenever you felt like it, but that wasn't enough.

"I can see why Rara likes to spend time with me more," you say it plainly, you're scrolling through shops on your phone, "especially if this is all you do all day."

"Leave then," there's an edge to his voice, but he takes a breath, "I don't want her precious Bunny to die of boredom then I'd have to find her a new pet to play with."

You laugh, there's no humor in it, "She wouldn't need a pet if you took better care of her, but don't worry, I make sure she's never lonely."

Your tone is smooth, teasing. He could pick you up and put you outside to wait on the curb, that was always an option, but that meant touching you. Fuck that. His lip twitches as he fights back a sneer as he looks at you, you've gone back to focusing on your phone and unphased by the tension you've created. You've gotten comfortable, tucking your legs beneath you. Your loose shirt hangs off your shoulder, exposing a thin black strap and those damn shorts hug your think upper thighs. Even looking at you pisses him off.

"Oh my god, are you staring at my ass," You caught him and his eyes snap up to yours before going back to his screens, "what, you want to fuck me now? Getting whiplash from you, pervert."

"Fuck you? I wouldn't fuck you if it meant Kirara came by proxy, freak."

You're quick, he'll give you that, he didn't expect that you'd take the liberty of crawling across the couch nor did he think in a million years that you'd willingly straddle his lap. Its jarring, having you so close to him. You don't smell sweet like candy like Kirara, you smell sweet in the way that makes him nauseous, too damn good for someone as rotten as you. He doesn't touch you, digging his fingertips into the arm rest and cushion beneath, but you press down onto him and brush your thumb over his jawline. Your smile is wicked, he's getting hard beneath you and you know he hates himself for it.

"I guess that's the difference between us, Kin-Chan," you whisper into his ear, there's that smooth fucking voice again, it's gives him goosebumps, "I would let you do whatever you want to me as long as it keeps Rara happy."

[mysticcybergirl]

18+|Naoya x reader(bratty/sugarbaby)! Naoya definitely met his matchhhh(˵ ¬ ؂ ¬˵)

"I'm gonna give you all my loveeeeee in the back seat, Bubble pop electric,Bubble pop electric "

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Naoya was arrogant, rich, and unsurprisingly — rude.

Everyone in the Zenin family had warned him that if he kept acting the way he did, karma would eventually come knocking. He never gave it a second thought.

Karma? Please.

For a man whose family owned Zenin Enterprises —and half of Tokyo, it seemed—karma was just a convenient myth people told themselves when they had no power. And even if consequences did exist, he could buy his way out of them. A DUI? A scandal? It was all manageable with the right amount of money.

On campus, his reputation preceded him.

Naoya wasn’t officially in a fraternity. He liked partying with Toji and Sukuna well enough, but actually living in some run-down frat house with a bunch of loud, brainless meatheads? He’d take his penthouse suite over that any day.

Still, he showed up to every party worth attending—and word traveled fast.

Anyone who spent more than five minutes around him knew exactly what kind of man he was—rude, rich, and devastatingly handsome.

There was always a new girl on his arm, or more literally on his lap, every other week. Somehow, the whole I-don’t-give-a-shit-about-you attitude worked in his favor. Maybe it was the challenge. Maybe it was the idea that they could change him “fix” him.

For now, Naoya felt untouchable. Like the world revolved around him, and there wasn’t a single thing beyond his reach.

So it goes without saying out saying — Naoya wasn’t the biggest fan of university, moreso having to do shit that he much rather not. Like group projects.

Naoya absolutely despised group projects. 

They were a waste of his time and everyone else's. He hated the endless debates over a fuckass topic, the inevitable control freaks who always ended up doing jack shit, and the last-minute scramble to finish everyone's parts. 

The communication was always shit, meetings rescheduled into oblivion. 

Yeah, he had better things to do. 

But of course, just his luck, it seemed like every single one of his classes this semester had one. 

The professor put up a slide with the group assignments. Naoya scanned the list, muttering a curse under his breath. 

He scanned the room for his group, but he didn't have to look far. 

A thud beside his desk announced your arrival. 

"Hey," you said, extending a hand. Naoya eyed you up and down. 

Designer everything: Diesel jeans, a Prada jacket, and a Goyard bag. 

Pleased, Naoya shook your hand. 

"Seems like no one else showed up," you noted. 

Fucking fantastic, he thought. 

Now he had to figure out how to get out of this. He was ready for the usual song and dance—offering cash, dealing with the initial offense, and waiting for them to come around. 

What broke uni student wouldn't accept a pile of cash to do an assignment? 

He was prepped, ready for your reaction to his opening bid. 

"Five thousand dollars." You held your pretty little fingers, fresh manicure up.

"What?" He said, completely taken off guard, the smirk completely wipped off his arrogant face.

"What? For the group project – duh." you said, pulling out a compact and reapplying your gloss.

 Naoya was momentarily stunned. He was going to offer money, but why were you asking? 

You snapped the compact shut. 

"Dude, are you slow or some shit?" you asked, tilting your head with an irritated look.

That pissed him off. 

"Let's cut the chase. You don't wanna do this shit, and I don't wanna deal with someone who doesn't. So I'll be taking 5k for the assignment. Thank you very much." 

Naoya scoffed. This bitch was delusional. 

"I'm not paying you that much for a group project on child development." 

"That much? You call that a lot of money?" you shot back, a smirk playing on your lips. 

"Sorry, just thought Noaya Zenin was a loaded man. Didn't expect him to be so cheap."

 He knew what you were doing. And damn it, it was working.

"Four thousand." 

"Forty-eight hundred."

"Forty-five hundred." 

"Deal." Naoya said, somewhat satisfied he’d haggled you down.

Instantly, your mood switched. You went from being a complete bitch to friendly, giving him a bright smile and a wink.

 "Thanks! Alright, see you... umm..." you pretended to think, then shrugged. "Next time?" You didn't wait for a reply, just grabbed your bag and sauntered out of the classroom. 

What the fuck just happened? It happened so fast, it made Naoya head spin — somehow you were able to both insult Naoya and take his money under 5 minutes.

And he thought that was it. Until he noticed a weird phenomenon. 

You just happened to be in his other classes. 

Every single one. 

And you just happened to be his partner for every single project. 

And just like before, you named your price without even glancing up from your phone. 

Seriously, girls were fawning over him just for a look in their direction. Was he not your type? Nah, he knew he was everyone's type. 

"Six thousand dollars." 

"What?" Noaya said with his mouth slightly gapping

He was stunned. 

You'd increased the price by $1,500. 

You finally glanced up, leaning in.

"Well, now I gotta do two projects alone. That's a lot of work, especially if you wanna get that A+." 

You stretched your arms out on the table, resting your head on them glancing up at him with a smirk. 

"And I know you wanna." 

Noaya huffed — clearly pissed — but he agreed. 

Then the price went up again for the next class, "$10,000." and again "$15,000." 

He knew you were robbing him blind, but he couldn't get that stupid look on your face when you called him cheap - out of his head. 

So imagine how furious he was when he showed up to class a few minutes early, by accident, of course — he just wanted to test the engine of his new Mercedes and may have driven a little fast.

He heard you talking to the professor. 

"Could you pair me and Naoya together for the project?" 

At first, he was geeking. Of course she wants me – what girl could resist my char– 

"He just doesn't seem to have any friends," you said, your voice dripping with fake sympathy, "and I just really wanna help him out <3." 

Oh, you devious bitch. 

You were playing him. 

When you left, Naoya pulled you aside. Dressed in your Lululemon fit, hair in a messy (obviously purposeful) bun, glossed lips. 

It would be a hell of a lot easier getting properly mad if he didn't get hard looking at you every time. 

"You cunt," he whispered, his voice a harsh yell. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. 

So what if he'd figured out your little plan? You were just working the system he'd already put in place. 

"Comeee on, Naoya," you said, your voice sweet and sultry, as if you weren't robbing him blind. 

"You weren't gonna do them anyway. I honestly think I made it easier—you didn't even have to ask." 

You fluttered your lashes innocently, staring up at him.

Naoya's blood was boiling. "Are you serious?!" 

You weren't backing down. 

"I'm not paying your ass for this stupid project. We're doing it." 

Your smile faltered, a serious look on your face. Hell, even Naoya was surprised by his own words.

"You know it's a 6-credit course, right? Which means it's a year-long research essay." 

Fuck. But he couldn't back down now. 

"That's fine." 

"The minimum references is like, 20. You know that, right?" you pressed.

 Naoya was confused. "Okay???" 

"Like, you have to actually read."

You were dead serious.

Naoya was speechless. Does she think I can’t read or some shit?

He had to take a breath to calm himself down. 

"You know what —I'll hit you up to discuss it." 

And just like that, Naoya Zenin, the guy who pitied the fools who had to make group chats and communicate and actually work on these stupid projects, was about to do the exact same thing

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Naoya hated spending time with you.

He hated how genuinely funny you were—how you made him laugh without even trying, never holding back on your jokes.

He hated how your tone softened when you reviewed his work, your usual bite fading into something almost… helpful.

He hated how you smelled, always of roses or vanilla, a scent that clung to his clothes long after you’d left.

He hated the unconscious way you ran your fingers through your hair when you were stressed, and he especially, especially hated the way you absentmindedly twirled a pen between your plush lips when you were concentrating, your tongue darting out to flick the plastic. He wondered how your mouth would feel on his co–

“Heyyy.”

Naoya snapped out of it, looking up to see Sukuna and Toji heading toward your table.

“Hey, what’s up?” Naoya stood, exchanging the bro-handshake with each of them. “What’re you up to?”

“Grabbing drinks,” Toji added. “You?”

“Uh… working?” Naoya replied.

Both of them glanced at each other. Then at the table. Then past Naoya—where you sat, typing away.

“That’s her?” Sukuna asked.

“That’s me,” you said without even looking up from your laptop.

“Damn, you didn’t tell us your group mate was that fi—”

Naoya immediately shoved them away from the desk. “I’m gonna walk them out,” he muttered.

You simply nodded, still focused on your screen.

The second they were out of earshot—

“You have to ask her out.” Toji said bluntly.

“What?”

“Come on. She’s into you.”

Was she? I mean, Naoya didn’t get that vibe at all—it actually pissed him off, but… was he not paying attention? Maybe you were? And unfortunately for him, his friends were annoyingly convincing.

“Yeah,” Sukuna added. “You two spend all this time together? She has to be.”

Naoya paused. Like a true arrogant piece of shit, he conjured up the idea that maybe you were into him, and you just showed it… slightly different than most girls would. Yeah, that had to be it. For your sake, fine—he’d ask you out.

“Alright, alright.”

When he returned, you were packing up your bag.

“Um.” He cleared his throat. “You good?” you asked casually.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to hide his shit-eating grin. “You wanna go on a date this weekend?”

He wanted to see you flustered, shy, maybe a tucking of the hair, a little never thought you would—

“No. I already have a date this weekend.”

Just like that—Naoya, for the first time in his life heard the words “no”.

“K. See you next week,” you said with that sweet, poisonous smile, like you hadn’t just destroyed this man’s entire confidence.

And after you left, Naoya sat there, running his hands through his dyed hair — completely stunned.

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That night, he got wasted, ready to forget about you and your obnoxious personality, silky smooth hair, and those pouty lips—fuck, he needed to get laid.

And he almost did—except for the fact that he couldn’t get hard.

He had to make some lame-ass excuse about feeling sick to save his reputation.

So feeling like complete shit the next day, he went to grab coffee. And guess what he saw.

You, all dolled up, shamelessly flirting with a silver-haired man. And when he narrowed his eyes—it was the fucking physics professor, Mr. Gojo.

You were laughing at something he said, your hand resting on his forearm as you leaned in, your body language screaming intimacy.

Gojo said something that made you roll your eyes and swat at his chest, a grin still plastered on your face.

He grabbed you rough, dragging you to his car. “Get in.”

“Naoya, what the actual fuck?”

“Get in.”

And the way he was fuming, you obeyed reluctantly.

“You’re fucking him?!”

“Jesus, you need to calm down. You’re acting like a crazy ex.”

“Tell me.”

“No, I’m not fucking him,” you said, slightly offended, before shrugging. “Well, not all the time.”

“Huh?!”

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus, Naoya, I just go on dates with these guys for money, y’know? They pay for my apartment, my bills, tuition—everything.”

And it all clicked in. At first, he didn’t understand why you were asking for money in the first place—you definitely looked like you had enough, with the expensive clothes, purses, fresh blowout, and those pretty fucking fingers always done.

“You’re a sugar baby?”

“Yeah,” you said, deadpan.

He processed the words. “Sooo, can I like go?”

“And you’re in it for the money only?”

“Well, yeah, basically.”

Naoya thought for a second. Before pulling out his wallet, he slid the pretty little black card out. He turned his body completely, leaning over. “Yours,” he said, twirling it between his fingers. “One condition.”

You raised your brow, intrigued. “You’re all mine. No more dates with those fucking losers.”

And it’s like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “I’ll pay for your place, your fees, food, clothes—fuck, anything you want.”

Now he was speaking your language.

“You serious?” you said, biting your lip.

“Dead serious.”

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You two were in back of his black Mercedes, the illegal tints were a godsend. 

Naoya wasted no time, shoving his jeans down. His cock out — 8.5 inches, thick, veins pulsing as he gave it a slow, firm stroke.

"Baby, let me take care of that," you cooed, mocking him. It just made him harder. He was convinced something was wrong with his brain, every time you were a bitch to him, he got turned on.

You climbed on top, your skirt bunched around your waist. He tore your blouse open, your panties and bra following in a heap on the floor. But you weren't going to make this easy for him - No no no.

Naoya groaned as you kissed his ears, running your tongue across his piercings, then kissing him down his neck, sucking dark hickeys into his skin before soothing them with your tongue. You dragged your soaking cunt along the length of his cock, a teasing, maddening rhythm.

It was a medical emergency. He was going to explode if he didn't fuck you right now. 

You leaned in, your lips brushing his ear. 

"Don't tell me you're already about to cum. I expected more from you, Naoya Zenin." 

The way you said his name— almost sounded foreign, sweet—drove him absolutely wild.

"You think this shit's funny?" he snarled, gripping your hips and slamming you down on his dick without warning. 

"Always such a fucking brat," he growled, his thrusts turning mean, unhinged as he pistoned up into you. "And now look at you, so obedient. You know what you should be sayin? Sorry."

You wanted to bite back, you really did, but he was so deep, carving out a place for himself inside your gummy walls.

"Fuck you," you gasped, bouncing on his cock, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. 

"Baby-y, you are f-fucking me," he grunted, crashing his lips against yours, swallowing your next moan.

"Now come on – apologize for being a brat." 

A sly smirk, despite the pleasure wrecking your body, spread across your lips. "Oh, I'm so, so s-sorry," you whined, your voice dripping with insincerity. "I'll be a g-good girl, I p-promise." You managed to breathe out, your voice shaky. 

That did it. Something inside him snapped. With a guttural groan, he yanked you down until your foreheads were pressed together. "You've got a smart fucking mouth," he hissed, and then he was pounding into you, so so deep as he shifted the angle, his cockhead slamming relentlessly against your g-spot.

The car filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin, of ragged breaths and desperate whimpers.

"Fuck-k" he hissed, sweat dampening his hair, his jaw flexing as he felt you cum around him. He drove into you once, twice more, before burying himself to the hilt, bottoming out inside you and stilling, his entire body shaking as he spilled himself deep inside.

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Naoya watched, mesmerized, as you methodically buttoned your blouse, covering the very skin he’d just marked. He still wasn’t done with you though.

"Wanna come over to my place?" he asked, shamelessly.

"Sure," you shrugged, not missing a beat. "But first, let's stop by the mall." 

"Huh? Why?" Naoya said, already backing the car out of the spot.

“To go shopping, dumbass. Oh—and I’m getting my nails redone. They’re totally ruined because of you.”

Yeah, this was definitely karma. And he was enjoying it wayyyyy more than he should.

[naoyasbunny]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Naoya loves to see you cry; it's as if he's admiring a masterpiece. The way the tears stream down your face, the way your face turns red, and after so much crying, your eyes become dry and dehydrated. He loves all of that, kissing each tear that runs down your face. Every sob, every whimper, he keeps those sounds in his memory. He loves to make you cry and comfort you afterward; he loves being the reason of your suffering and your joy.

[serpenttine]

two wrongs make a right

toxic!naoya x toxic!reader

MDNI

naoya dumped you about 2 weeks ago now, but it really wasn’t your fault!

you came back to his house after recently forgiving him for liking another girl’s picture (which led to the two of you separating) ..

arguments between the two of you never end in ‘talking about your feelings’ but rather nasty hate sex or one of you going completely off the wall and calling it quits.

you lay in naoya’s bed, daydreaming as you wait for him to get out of the shower. your eye catches on a strand of hair. a strand of hair that doesn’t match yours nor his hair colour.

your body quickly fills with rage, you don’t even give the man time to explain himself before your using all your strength to push the mattress out of his balcony.

it bounces off of the concrete onto the dark street and you rush down to it, a lighter and aerosol deodorant in hand. it takes a few tries and a few close calls of nearly setting yourself on fire before getting a flame to spark on the cotton.

its already too late for naoya when he notices whats going on once he steps out of the shower, the mattress is already completely on fire as it casts a warm orange glow over your features.

“WHAT THE— FUCK ARE YOU DOING WOMAN?!?” the anger you feel hasn’t settled one bit, and he is quite literally fuelling the fire.

“YOU HAD SOME DOG IN YOUR BED WHILE WE WERE BROKEN UP! HER HAIR IS ALL OVER THE THING!” you scream back at him, people on the street are now sticking their heads out the windows to watch, naoya has no fucking clue what to do.

he stands stuck in the same spot, gripping the railing with only a towel around his waist.

“SO FUCKING WHAT?! YOU SAID IT YOURSELF WE WERE BROKEN UP YOU PSYCHO BITCH! SHOULD’VE FUCKING STAYED THAT WAY!”

and with that, it was over. again.

this wasn’t unusual between you two, you’d ‘broken up’ 7 times now over the course of 5 months.

but what was unusual was the fact your ‘breakups’ only lasted at most a week before you were both tangled in his sheets or in the backseat of his car. its been two now, and you refuse to reach out first.

complaining to your friends that “it’s all his fault and he should text first!” they give you the same speech as always, telling you that he was “no good anyways” and that “you need to stop going for the worst possible man.” but its not like you can help it..everyone has a type and yours happens to be men with a few screws loose!

the phrase “opposites attract” has never applied to you.

and naoya always reaches out in some way. whether that’s somehow finding you at one of the many clubs in the city and causing a scene by punching whatever dude you were with, or sending you a video showing you juuust how much he misses you!

you lay in bed watching said videos with a pout on your face and a familiar feeling pooling in your gut, wondering why the hell he wont just give in already?! naoya zenin may be a stubborn man, but with you it’s like all that goes out the window.

he’s never been one to tolerate a woman who steps out of line, always believing he’d end up with a ‘traditional’ woman who keeps her voice down, takes care of the house and obeys him. it’s mind blowing how he ended up with someone like you..

he unfortunately does miss you. even after he slept on the couch the night you broke up and had to go through the hassle of hauling his new mattress back home along with stares from his neighbours.

for some sick and twisted reason he misses you.

but he’s done being the one apologising for things you were more at fault for than he was. he looks back and thinks it’s pathetic the way he goes on. he wants—no. he needs to make sure you’re the one to break first this time.

he knows you’re missing him too with how much you’ve been at the bar lately, the apple airtag he had disguised as a pretty keychain since you had refused to share your location with him, lets him know you’ve been drinking your worries away and not going home with anyone.

unless you’ve been bringing them back to your place? maybe he should put a camera in a teddy bear next..

your ex’s suspicions are correct! you did bring a guy home that night, only to be left fuming when the dude got his fill in 2 minutes, he at least cared enough to finger you after. but he had no fucking clue what he was doing. just jabbing his fingers in and out of you for 10 minutes straight.

knowing he’s not going to magically catch on soon, you fake an orgasm. the shithead gets all excited, “god, making you cum all over my fingers.”

the only thing he made you was bored and pissed off.

you’re equally as pissed off when you wake up the next morning and he’s still lying next to you, reeking of beer and snoring like a truck. kicking him awake, you lose the ability to sympathise with the guy any longer and tell him to ‘get the fuck out.’ smacking him with his clothes, while your eyes are stuck on the ‘call’ button of naoya’s contact.

you debate on whether or not to call him, but the sound of your front door being slammed shut does it for you.

asshole.

he picks up on the 3rd ring, with how fast he answered you expected him to say something but its nothing but silence from his end.

“nao-babyyy..” you use the whiny voice you know he likes.

“what? if it’s not you offering to pay me back for that mattress i don’t want to hear it. you’re lucky i even picked up.”

it’s not like money was an issue for him, he just practiced that line for when you eventually called.

you so badly want to snap back at him for using that tone with you but for once, you hold yourself back.

“i miss youuuu..don’t be mad at me, you know how i am when im angryy..”

he’s growing increasingly annoyed at how you’re saying everything but what he wants to hear from you.

“and?”

“and…uhmm..uhh..”

you genuinely don’t register what he wants from you, i mean why would a man expect an apology from his ex-girlfriend for turning his mattress to ash?

your phone makes a ‘click’ as he hangs up and you gasp. he didn’t even give you a chance! well, he did but..UGH!!!

naoya knew this would end one of two ways.

1: you’d get really angry and not talk to him unless he called first

2: you’d get really angry and force him to talk to you.

with 23 missed calls on his phone it’s obvious which way you went.

he’s got a fat grin on his face as he looks down at the text messages you sent consisting of mostly foul words alongside the now 24 missed calls.

clearly you gave up on the whole being nice to get your way thing, because you had just told him you were coming over so he’d talk to you and not to bother with his door because the windows would be in pieces either way.

the man you wish you set on fire instead of the mattress is already waiting for you outside while your speeding car comes to a stop with a loud screech, arms crossed and a cheeky smile on his face.

banging insult after insult at the man as you practically stomp towards him, he doesn’t say anything. just shuts you up with a finger on your lip.

“say you’re sorry.”

“FINE, IM SORRY!”

he tilts his head slightly and tuts,

“you can say it nicer than that can’t you? or are you incapable of that aswell?”

“im. sorry.”

if you were in a cartoon there would be smoke coming out of your ears right now.

he scoffs at your reply, “you can’t even pretend you mean it, how did i end up with a beast like you?”

your ex always knew how to push your buttons. if you weren’t so desperate for him right now you’d get back in your car and run him over.

you have to take a few deep breaths before you answer him, and as you open your mouth-

hes laughing, cackling even.

“god, your only proving my point. i’ll let you show me how sorry you are on my new mattress and i’ll consider forgiving you after.”

thats how you ended up with your thighs burning, bouncing on naoya’s cock.

he’s pulled you off of him 3 times by now, every time you think you’re about to cum he lifts you by the waist and shakes his head, “not until i believe you’re sorry.”

“aren’t you supposed to be—ngh proving something to me? this is lazy work at best.” he’s holding himself back too, wanting to keep you on his dick for as long as possible.

“naoyaaa..i told you im sorry—please.” you whine, grinding down on him so your clit brushes his abdomen.

“quit all that whining.” he slaps you across the face, your cunt clenching around him in response. “ggod—i need actions—not words.”

your orgasm starting to build again gives you the motivation you need to lift yourself up and down continuously.

“like this? ffuck, is this good enough for you?”

the sharp sting on your face snapped you back to reality as you ignore the pain in your thighs and focus completely on the man infront of you, who’s got his hands behind his head, the veins in his forearms threatening to pop and his teeth clamped together so hard he thinks one might chip.

and then he lets out the most high pitched, girly whimper.

you don’t even have time to react to it before he’s moving his hands to your waist and bouncing you on his cock while simultaneously thrusting up into you, he seems angrier,

but it’s not the result of anything you did this time…

“you—wanted—it—so—fuck-ing—take—it.” he punctuates each word with a thrust. you’re left a mumbling mess on top of him from the sudden change in pace, not sure yourself what’s trying to come out of your mouth.

“all that back-talk finally stop? better—fuck stay that way.”

with his last word, he hits a spot deep inside you that has you crying out, “sshiit! rightthererighthere please—please let me c-cum!!”

“since you asked so nicely.”

a few more harsh pounds to the spot does it for you, your body shudders and you’re moaning out his name like a mantra, leading him to follow after you almost immediately, painting your walls white.

after the panting filling the room from the two of you subsides, he speaks.

“you’re forgiven.”

“shut the fuck up naoya.”

note: naoya lovers unite

if anyone’s played the witcher 3 u can see where i got the whole bed getting thrown out the balcony thing from (yen my queen)

as always, im only starting to write so tips r v helpful and all interactions r appreciated!

@user286373

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[cinnavanillaa]

UNDERRATED OMG I love this dynamic soooo much