240427 NCT_OFFICIAL_JP Twitter Update
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-`ღ´- a/n: thinking about possessive Yuuta ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა
-`ღ´- tags: 18+, mdni, fem reader, jealousy, afab reader, cream pie
Yuuta would never admit to it. But he’s possessive. He likes having things to himself. He grew up as an only child and loved when Rika gave him all her attention. He likes it when Gojo trusts him enough to send him on solo missions and treats him as an individual. But don’t get him wrong, he loves being friends with everyone too. It’s the devoted attention that makes him feel good.
When he started dating you, he felt restless. He wanted your attention constantly. He wanted you to only spend time with him. He hated when you went out with others, even if it was just Maki and Nobara, because why wouldn’t you want to just stay with him.
Yuuta is possessive. When he has sex with you for the first time, he can’t help but claim what’s rightfully his. He cums deep inside of you. You whine feeling his warm cum coat your insides. He feels like he’s in a daze as he pulls out and sees your cute pussy gaping for him. Oh and you're doing so well holding his cum in too. Your body knows what’s right. It knows that he’s right for you.
And when he witnesses Itadori or Megumi or even Gojo flirt with you, he feels his jaw tense with anger. You belong to him. Not them. Him. So the next time you’re moaning against his sheets, he makes sure to leave marks. Bites, hickies, hand prints on your ass. He spared no expense. And fuck you’re such a good girl. You took everything, bouncing on his dick, saying you belong to him. You’re all his, forever. That line pouring from your sweet lips has him cumming over and over again inside of you.
He almost wants it to take. So then other people will finally stop flirting with what’s his.
Yuuta is possessive, but especially when it comes to you.
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Okkotsu Yuta
TW: nsfw, noncon, bullying, suicide by nameless side characters
fem reader
Thinking about the mean girl curse...
Manifested through all the incel boys who both fear and hate the pretty girls who roam the school hallways and never spare them a second glance.
You’ll appear in empty classrooms – preying on the poor loser boys who eat their lunch all alone.
You’re such a bully – looking perfect in your short school skirt with your pink lips – smacking them as you pop your bubblegum – uniform shirt a size too small with buttons undone to the midway point.
You make the poor losers cry with your harsh words and haughty laughter – goading them into buying you things in exchange for promises you never keep. Whispering all coyly that you’ll give them a kiss on the cheek, that you’ll let them touch your tits, that you’ll give them your panties – but in the end, all you do is pour your strawberry milk on their heads with a grin – before disappearing with a giggle.
You choose your victims and stay with them until you’ve pushed them over the edge – literally – until they’ve taken a swan dive off the school roof and bloodied the pavement. That’s how you feed – blowing on their ear, whispering mean little nothings until they just can’t take it anymore.
Too many incidences and Jujutsu tech is alerted of the abnormalities.
You appear sitting on a desk when Okkotsu comes looking to exorcise you. You’re sucking on a pink lollipop as you eye him and his pitiful eyes.
He had a handful of bullies like you back in his schooldays – he remembers them as clueless sluts who’d set their thugs on him for a sense of superiority. Clueless sluts –no idea how lucky they were he hadn’t set Rika loose on them all.
You remind him of them. Pretty and full of yourself. You speak as though you expect him to grovel – to throw himself down on his knees for a chance to kiss your feet.
He doesn’t need Rika to fight his fights anymore.
You can't believe how he has you muffled with your own underwear – squealing as he rams your cunt fast and hard from the back. Bent over the desk, hair a mess with your mascara running in black streaks down your pretty face – as he wrings your wrists in two tight fists while stretching your arms behind you, using them to pull you back against the snap of his hips.
Your skirt’s a ripped mess pooled around your ankles as you shake – thighs glossed with slick and quaking as he pounds another orgasm right out of you. A sweaty mess resting with your cheek mushed against the desk in your own drool.
Meanwhile, he sucks your lollipop – far from done.
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