Retribution (Naoya Zenin x Fem! Reader)
TW: Naoya, Misogyny, temporary paralysis, NON-CON, swearing, mild description of violence, Reader and Naoya HATE each other
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Wobbling down the dark path from the secluded shrine your vision blurs and your body feels like it’s being weighted down. Everything is on fire emanating from the sting you got from a bug curse. It looked like a fucked up wasp with several smaller bug like curses following it. The battle wasn’t long but it had snuck in a hit while you were distracted by the underlings. Luckily, you had been able to exorcize it before the effect began to kick in.
Your breathing even feels as if it’s slowing. Paralysis is settling in. It’s a cold realization that causes sweat to form on your back. An ebbing begins from the sting like ocean waves crashing onto your back attempting to pull you under. You have already called your ride, you just have to make it down the path to the street.
Darkness gives way to hope, a single street lamp illuminates the road. As if on que your knees give out and the ground rises to meet you. The pain of colliding with the pavement rings through your body but you can’t move to soothe the growing bruises and bleeding scrapes. All you can manage is gentle respiration and languid blinks to prevent your eyes from drying out.
It’s horrifying, the ability to feel but not to move. A pebble digs into your stomach but you cannot reposition. You try not to panic which isn’t too hard since the only non autonomic function the cursed venom allows is blinking. The sounds of insects, ironically, helps distract your mind.
A sleek black car pulls up after a while of laying in the heat of the evening. You would sigh in relief if you could but that feeling quickly changes to dread when a tied sandals, black tabi socks and the ends of light grey hakama pants greet your vision. Instantly you recognize the fashion of Naoya Zenin. Your heart beat increases unwillingly, increasing your breathing.
To be helpless in front of a man like this is to be a deer in the headlights or an ant in a death spiral. There is a smidge of hope that fate will change but you can’t do anything about it. All you can do is follow the spiral, stare into the oncoming headlights, or lay on the ground boneless without the ability to twitch a muscle.
You strain your eyes in an attempt to view more of him as he laughs. It’s a cruel thing full of condescension and vitriol.
“Where is all that fight, huh?” he laughs again and steps on your back harshly. You can’t muster anything but an involuntary wheeze as he pushes the air from your lungs. Your lack of response only makes him laugh harder.
“This is where a woman should be. On the ground like a squished bug doing as a man says.” Internally you wince at the bug analogy. It’s still too soon. You attempt your best glare but not much in your face moves. Naoya flips you onto your back with his foot and looks down at you with a terribly smug grin.
“Maybe I should teach you a lesson. I do owe you after all.” For the beatings you gave him before, your mind supplies with a mild glee at remembering which is quickly overtaken but rage as Naoya kicks you over and over.
“How does it feel! Being dominated by a man. You were never stronger than me, you just got lucky.” He yells at you despite only winning while you’re incapacitated. He keeps going on for a while about the patriarchy and other bullshit before he stops hitting you and pushes his hair back with one hand trying to seem cool after all that.
Naoya then hums contemplatively while looking at you with a cocked head. Practically all of your throbs with pain from the beating. You close your eyes hoping he got whatever was out of his system with the beating but clearly he’s more spiteful than you gave him credit for. Naoya opens the door to the backseat, hauls you up by your armpits and all but throws you in the back like a ragdoll causing more damage. Then he folds your legs up to fit all of you in the back seat. The fake blonde takes the passenger’s seat and demands the poor manager to drive.
If you survive this encounter you’re seriously killing both of them. Naoya for everything he’s done and surely will do and the driver for being complacent. With the exhaustion of the battle with the curse and the beating Naoya gave you, the gentle rock of the car lulls you into an unwilling sleep.
You hadn’t been raised as a sorcerer though you had always been vaguely aware of them. Your mother died of pneumonia when you were very young. On her death bed she mentioned her family for the first time. The Zenin clan, a traditional clan with horribly misogynistic values. She told you to steer clear of them at all costs and that she had risked her life leaving.
Your mother didn’t have any cursed energy of her own but you had been able to see curses from a very young age. Ironically when you got older you developed a rather strong cursed technique. It isn’t the Zenin clan technique but something similar; a form of time manipulation. You can speed up, slow down, or even completely freeze anything you touch.
You had no interest in becoming a sorcerer so you kept your technique hidden for the most part. Growing up with a single father in the large city of Tokyo was difficult and you’ll admit you fell into a bad crowd. Underground fighting became a hobby of yours and you found community in street gangs.
It would be a lie to say you weren’t using your cursed technique at all. If a fight was looking treacherous you would cheat a little but slightly slowing your opponent or speeding yourself up. It took a while before the jujutsu society took notice and unfortunately with their resources it wasn’t hard to find out your heritage. They sent a few lackeys in an attempt to recruit you but you turned them down every single time.
It was in a dingy abandoned building watching a fighting match when you met Naoya Zenin. You aren’t sure how he found you but he did. You had both been 16 years old but the difference in your childhood and status couldn’t be more obvious.
The place was crowded with shitty dyed blonde hair so that part didn’t stand out but his crisp traditional outfit sure did. With a disgusted face he pushes his way through the crowd as you watch standing atop a chair to get a better vantage point on the fighting ring. Arrogance practically radiated off of the Zenin. He must have been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth you couldn’t help but observe.
Eventually his eyes found yours. Just as you had observed him Naoya took a good look at you and decided right then and there that you were the antithesis of his beliefs. You stood too boldly, dressed too masculine, glared with too much hate, and most of all didn't play the game of betters like the other women of his clan. In the crowd of what he saw as brainless, violent, hoodlums you fit it perfectly and Naoya hated it.
Naoya stomped his way up to you creating a small commotion as he pushed past people with little regard and opened with, “A woman should never make a man look for her.”
A sneer marred your face. Naoya’s haughty comment caught the attention of some of the boys near you. Having been on the scene for a while you had gained a ruthless reputation. The fight continued, filling the room with the sound of grunts and cheers.
“You hardly look like a man, more like a child wearing daddy’s clothes.” You retorted with a smirk, looking down on him from your vantage point. Naoya grit his teeth.
“These are custom tailored. I wouldn’t expect a poor, ignorant, bitch to know true value.” He spit back. You stepped off the chair to meet him face to face.
“I’m going to tailor you a new hole if you keep fucking with me.” You threatened while leaning in close enough he could smell the spearmint of your gum. He went to push you back but you grabbed his hand twisting it. He pulled back before any real damage could occur.
“You’re coming back with me to the Zenin clan. That technique of yours can be useful after we teach you how to act right.” Your face fell at the announcement of his clan. You remembered your mother’s warnings well. How could you send him off in a way that would matter?
“I don’t give a shit about blood ties or clans and I certainly don’t want to be a sorcerer. I hoped that sentiment got through the thick skulls of your community when I kept denying the others but I guess not. Piss off.” You asserted.
The main fight was over by then and many had turned toward your confrontation with Naoya which had sent a ripple through the crowd. The slightly older boy designated as the match official came over and warned, “Hey! No fighting outside of the ring. You wanna throw hands, you do it for the crowd.”
A smirk graced your face as you turned towards Naoya.
“So trust fund, you wanna go?” He scoffed but bravado crept onto his face.
“Yeah, I think a bitch like you needs some humbling.” An ‘ooooh’ echoed through the crowd as the two of you shoved to the middle where a medium sized circle was cleared out.
“Alright! Let’s do this properly people! State your names and when I blow the whistle the fight begins! No weapons allowed and the fight ends with a forfeit or a knock out!” The announcer yelled for you and the crowd.
Naoya stood across from you with crossed arms and a wide stance. Taking the initiative he went first, “I am Naoya Zenin and when I win you’re coming with me back to Kyoto, obediently.” His announcement was audacious, putting the crowd on edge. They looked towards you for a response.
“I am (Name) and I’m going to break every bone I can get my hands on,” You coldly announced while pointing at him then crossed your thumb over your neck in the ‘you’re dead’ gesture.
“Tch, as if a weakling like you could break a single bone in my body,” He goaded. The whistle blew and you saw red. The warmth of the many bodies packed into the room, the rage at the asshole that appeared and acted like he already owned you, and the sonorous voices of the crowd empowered you.
Naoya got a few hits in as you both snuck your cursed techniques into the fight but in the end you laid him out flat. You dragged the bloody and unconscious Zenin by his shirt collar out of the venue into the dark alley connected to it. You huffed from the fight and blood dripped from your own nose. A man in a dark suit greeted you. He looked middle aged and meek as he stared at his disgraced master in disbelief.
You unceremoniously dropped Naoya onto the ground and looked the suited man in the eyes with a harsh expression causing him to flinch like you would put your hands on him next.
“I will never join your shitty spiritual club so stop trying.” With that you walked back into the abandoned building to keep watching the matches. A smile bloomed on your face from the praise from your buddies as Naoya laid like forgotten garbage in the alley.
Naoya appeared before you all of six times after that with the intention of forcing you to become subservient to his clan. Every single time you beat him down creating significant bad blood between you two. Due to these fights you had to actually advance your jujutsu training causing you to stand out even more in the jujutsu world.
Eventually Satoru Gojo got involved, pressuring you to join Tokyo tech college. You couldn't win against the strongest and his persistent personality wore you down so you joined the school. It was almost worth it when Naoya burst into the school yelling about bloodlines and rights due and not a single person backed him up. You had the brightest smile on your face as he attempted to burn holes through you with his eyes as his only option was to admit defeat.
Since then Naoya has done everything in his power to seem unbothered by the outcome and still fuck with you. You just know some of your more difficult missions where your technique was the worst match for the curse was somehow due to his influence. Naoya also sends passive aggressive presents. You aren’t sure if it was luck that Noaya had learned of your unfortunate condition after your latest mission or if he’s been spying on you all this time but one thing is certain the cold war between you is coming to an end.
You awaken from a harsh slap to the face. You’re half-way sat up with something wedged behind you to give you a view of your still limp body. You’re on a futon but you doubt it’s for your comfort as the smug prick Naoya kneels above your knees. The light above deepens the depressions on his face as he gloats.
“There we go. Can’t have you sleeping for your lesson.” Noaya starts before leaning in so his face is nearly touching yours. His hands stabilize him on the wall behind you caging you in as if being paralyzed wasn’t enough.
“You think you can humiliate me and get away with it? I’m going to ruin you, body and soul, slut.” He all but promises. You would shiver if you could. As Naoya backs up revealing a camera angled at you, rage and helplessness swell within you swirling into a deadly concoction. Try as you might not even a finger will wiggle. Something in your face must have shifted because Naoya’s smirk deepens.
“Glare all you want. That won’t change what’s going to happen.” He reminds you cruelly. The fake blonde places two large and warm hands on your thighs and slides them upward at an excruciatingly slow pace towards your belt as if to draw out the suffering. Your belt is removed with less ceremony and your pants are unbuckled. The article of clothing gets dragged down your legs making you notice that your shoes were already off somewhere.
Once your pants are out of the way Naoya’s eyes zero in on your black panties. They aren’t anything special, just something comfortable and practical. Naoya grabs your ankles, spreading your legs and settling between them practically pulling you into his lap.
“I was hoping for something cuter but I guess you always are a disappointment.” He mocks with hands moving towards your shirt. He grabs the collar of your shirt and rips it down the middle. You silently mourn the article as your equally simple bra is revealed.
Noaya clicks his tongue at your plain bra before a wide smile appears on his face as a harbinger of doom. With one hand firmly on your right hip with the other from his pocket he produces a small but sharp pocket knife. He traces the blade along your stomach creating a thin shallow cut before cutting your bra down the middle for your breasts to spill out.
He chuckles as your nipples pebble exposed to the cold air. For a second the knife is forgotten as Naoya gropes your tits. He squeezes them without much thought or skill. It seems as if he’s not even that interested in your chest but does it for the sole purpose of humiliating you.
After a tense few minutes Naoya gets bored and the knife returns to your skin sliding against your upper thigh. He doesn’t look you in the eyes as he starts talking, “I thought about gutting you and putting your corpse on display but that wouldn’t be enough. No, not for you. You need a reminder of who owns you.”
Trying to move you still can’t as he dips the knife deeper into the meat of your thigh, careful not to go above the femoral artery. White hot pain shoots up from your legs as the blood spills. Tears blur your vision but he doesn’t stop. When you’re able to blink the fuzziness away you see that he’s carving his full name into your leg. The fury in your chest burns brighter than the pain.
Naoya grins manically when he finishes. He slaps the fresh wound causing a squeak of pain to leave you.
“Looks much better. You should be thanking me really. I just increased your value.” Naoya laughs then leans down and glides his tongue across the bleeding wound further agitating it. He makes a point to spit the collected blood onto your chest.
“You’re not good enough to be swallowed by me.” He sure loves to hear himself talk. You can’t wait until this paralysis wears off and you get to carve him up like a holiday turkey. Mentally you attempt to block all of what’s happening out with dreams of revenge but it’s hard to ignore the bulge rubbing against your ass. He’s getting off on your pain.
Naoya leans forward close enough to your face it seems he’s almost going to kill you then pulls back slightly still dominating your view. He shoves a thumb in your slack mouth and moves your jaw around.
“I would love to shut you up with my cock but in this state it wouldn’t be very fun. Perhaps another time.” He smiles maliciously. You would bite it off, consequences be damned.
Setting the blade to the side and wiping his saliva drenched fingers on your skin, Naoya pulls away focusing on your panties. He slides his fingers up your hips underneath the sides then pulls, tearing them at the sides then once again as slow as molasses he pulls the fabric from your pussy.
“Like opening a present.” Naoya comments before shuffling backwards slightly to get a better view. With two fingers he spreads your lips apart to stare at your hole which is comically fucking dry. It feels like a small form of rebellion. Naoya quirks an eyebrow before spitting out, “What am I not good enough for you?”
You glare the best you can because no, this asshole isn’t turning you on. Noaya pulls out a bottle of lube and covers your cunt with it. The feeling is cold and slimy and as you attempt to move away you feel your toes move slightly. It’s not much but it's enough to give you hope.
The Zenin then pulls out his cock. He doesn’t remove his pants rather just pulls them down enough to reveal his penis. The dichotomy of you being fully naked and his clothes remaining on doesn’t escape your notice. He slathers himself with the lube while explaining, “I’m not doing this to be merciful, I just hate that sandpaper feeling of going in dry.”
You clench your eyes shut as he slaps his cock against your slit. He feels heavy and unbearably warm with a length just long enough to be mildly impressive and a girth that’s going to hurt without prep. Then he rubs his member through your folds and settles the tip right against your hole. He nudges the blunt tip against your hole, feeling its resistance and keeping you on edge. You have the faintest hope that he will stop here and just laugh in your face for thinking he would fuck you.
Then, all at once, he punches his hips forward and bottoms out. The movement knocks the air from your lungs. Naoya grabs your hair painfully forcing your head down.
“Look at it. Look at how your body gives way like it should, you slut.” He forces you to watch and feel him. Every vein and pulse is heavy within you as your tight walls struggle and fail to push him out. Tears sprout again in your eyes at the stretch. Naoya thrusts shallowly, stirring up your insides with heavy balls slapping against your ass. You feel nauseous. Naoya hisses, “You sure are tight for someone who doesn’t want this. Like you were made to be moulded on my cock.”
He leans forward pulling your hips up to follow him and making your back bend like a shrimp so he can mock you to your face. With him occupied you test your movement and find your foot moves a little more.
Naoya decides that he’s had enough teasing and begins slamming into with vigor. Unwillingly your body begins to respond, the pain turns to another kind of intense emotion; pleasure. Naoya doesn’t intentionally please you but with his wild movements by luck he hits that gummy part inside you.
Weak moans leave you without the ability to stifle them and Naoya begins laughing breathlessly right in your face. It’s all heat and sweat. You’re being carved out from the inside. The arms which lay uselessly by your side in Naoya’s assault twitch.
That tense feeling in your lower stomach grows and your fight against the feeling. Naoya begins groaning more. He pushes deep into you taking advantage of your pulsing and cums. Thick heat fills you in the worst kind of way and a growing panic fills your chest. Naoya refuses to pull out, staying inside you twitching. He puts more weight onto you causing you back to hurt as he catches his breath. A gleam appears in his eye that spells trouble.
“If I get you pregnant then you’d be forced to stay here.” He turns to grin down at you wildly. “I bet you’re not on any contraceptives. Don’t worry I’ll let you stay in the maid quarters.” Disgustingly he hardens again at the thought. He looks at you like he’s already imagining you swollen with his bastard child and forced to submit to him.
“I always win in the end.” He boldly claims while his hips slowly begin to rock again. For a moment, seeing his distraction, your eyes shoot towards the discarded pocket knife resting close enough for your newly mildly cooperative arm to grab. You look back at him.
Naoya firmly holds your hips pulling you onto him. He clenches his teeth at the pleasure he feels. The knot building in your stomach which eased up slightly began to build again. You would NOT cum on Naoya Zenin’s cock. Perhaps your face gave you away but Naoya notices your disgusted face and reaches down to rub careless circles into your clit.
“You would hate it wouldn’t you? To cum on my superior cock. I’ll win this battle too.” Naoya comments as he increases his fervor. Without looking, you reach out for the knife. Just as you cum without permission from your brain you confirm the position of the knife in your hand and use your cursed technique to speed up your arm to prevent any retaliation. With a sick schink noise the knife slots itself into Naoya’s throat. He stops moving in shock, making a gurgling noise when you pull the knife out and blood flows freely like a waterfall. You hit his jugular vein. You throw the knife away so he can’t use it against you.
Rage fills his eyes as his hands wrap around your throat hoping to take you with him to the afterlife. Everything hurts. As your vision starts spotting his grip weakens and he collapses onto you. You’re drenched in blood and beaten black and blue but you’ve never felt better. Naoya Zenin is dead.
With barely working limbs you push him off and out of you. Crawling towards the camera you break the thing. There will be hell to pay for your actions but you couldn’t care less. Naoya went to hell before you and that’s enough to keep you going.
