#_morisuke yaku

[depravitycentral]

I AM THINKING SO MANY THOUGHTS RN WHO DO YOU THINK WOULD MAKE YOU COCKWARM THEM WHILE YOU STUDY/DO HOMEWORK

He says it helps you focus, but you have your doubts.

It stimulates your brain, he says, and yet the only thing you can focus on is the way his fingertips dig into your sides, pressing against your soft skin just a bit too tightly. He’s holding you in place, but there’s something about the way he’s touching you that makes you think he’s trying to keep you from moving less because you want to, and more because he needs you to stay.

And with the way his breath hitches ever so slightly as you shift in his lap, you’re starting to think you’re right.

His breath is hot against your neck, words airily whispered and growled against your skin as you stare down at the papers sprawled across the desk before you. The black ink is hard to read, but then again everything is hard when he’s got you practically impaled on him, his girth stretching you out and making you squirm.

It’s all so unbearably warm – the swirling in your lower stomach, his breath, the way warm precum slowly oozes out of him and into you with each accidental clench around him. (The latter is accompanied by a small groan as well as the tiniest, oh so jerky buck of his hips upwards, trying to get deeper inside you, to fill you up more and more.)

He says it helps you to get your work done when he’s got you warming his cock, because it serves as motivation to work faster, harder, more efficiently – ironically, it seems to be doing just the opposite. Every thought is taken up by him him him, with the way he’s clutching onto you, his thighs occasionally twitching, his Adam’s Apple bobbing against your head as he shakily swallows.

C’mon, he tells you, his voice seemingly calm, though you can hear the slightest undertone of something hidden in his words. You know this – Professor went over it last week.

You gulp, willing yourself to ignore the way his hand slowly wanders upwards, fingers trailing over the sensitive skin of your sides.

I don’t remember… You mutter, biting your lip as his hand slows to a stop, right underneath your breast.

It’s silent for a moment, before he sighs softly, resting his forehead against the back of your head. Think hard – how much energy is used in this bond…

He’s talking, you know, but you can’t focus – not with the way he shifts you in his lap, trying to get a better view of the paper. You yelp slightly, the sudden bout of pleasure not going unnoticed by him.

His cock twitches inside you.

Now, we calculate… He whispers, and suddenly his hand is moving again, sliding up up up, over your breast and squeezing, your lower lip sitting between your teeth. A slender finger moves to lightly toy at your nipple through the thin material of your tshirt. He audibly gulps behind you.

Just like that, that’s it. He encourages, watching as you drag the pencil across the paper, your movements sluggish and weak. It makes him feel good, watching the way you struggle – all because of him.

Almost done, finish baby. Please, please finish. He tells you, and you’re finally able to put your finger on the underlying tone in his voice – desperation.

You can’t help the way your pussy clamps down, making his hips snap upwards, a small shudder racking his body. You can feel the muscles underneath the tshirt he wears tense, moving his body to press flush against your back. Fuck. He grips your tit particularly hard, harshly hissing between his teeth at the pressure of your velvety walls around him.

The air in the room is thick with desire, his fingers impatiently pressing at you, his thighs flexing with the strain of controlling himself. It’d be so, so easy to pin you down to the desk – your pants are already off, your pretty hole sucking him in like you need him, and with how wet you are around him, he’s sure you want this just as badly as he does.

He licks his lips, watching as you scribble the last few numbers – 3, 2, 1…

You finish with a sigh, letting the pencil clatter to the ground, and suddenly your whole world is turning upside down as he groans and grasps your waist once more, spinning you around so that you’re facing him, a leg on either side of his body. You steady yourself with two hands on his chest but it’s too late – he’s bouncing you up and down before you have a chance to even breathe.

F-fuck baby, so smart! He moans, his head lolling back slightly, eyes shut tightly. His lips part, uneven breaths spilling past them as he moves you up and down, faster and faster and faster, his own hips driving upwards to meet you.

He’s fucking you so deep, his tip rubbing right against the spot that has you seeing stars. You can’t even try to hold back the whines that bubble in your throat, but he doesn’t care. He wants to hear you, and as encouragement, a hand moves down to slap at your ass.

‘m so – so damn proud, my smart baby, fuck fuck fuck – He’s blabbering, incoherent as he struggles to hold off his orgasm. The pleasure is mounting and mounting, but he’ll be damned if he comes before you. You were so good, working so hard and diligently, and you kept him all nice and warm and wet and fuck how are you still so goddamn tight –

He’s gripping you even tighter than before, your poor tits bouncing in every direction as he uses you like his personal sex toy. It’s carnal, the way his hips snap into yours, balls clapping against your ass over and over. He lets out a particularly loud gasp, head falling forward and letting his teeth lightly sink into your shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut as his abs contract and tighten and ache –

Come for me come for me come for me, he begs, his voice thin and uneven, the desperation clouding his every thought. Fingers clumsily find their way to your clit, rubbing in circles that make you gasp and shudder.

Soon it’s all too much, your orgasm hitting and fuck, the way your walls flutter and massage his length makes him lose his fucking mind, the pleasure so intense. He’s nearly sobbing as he cries out your name, clutching you against his chest and moving to wrap his arms around you. He’s fully fucking into you now, his hips snapping up into yours hard enough to leave you physically bouncing, and the choked, gasping sounds falling past his lips as he comes leave your head spinning.

There’s just so much of it – runny and off-white, spilling down around his cock and running down your thighs, dripping down onto his balls and he shudders and heaves, still fucking up into you like you’re some kind of personal drug. It’s euphoric; he doesn’t want the moment to end, feeling you in his arms, clinging onto him and murmuring his name. It’s perfection, but all too soon your wet, spongy walls are too much for him, the oversensitivity leaving his brain scrambled.

He slows to a stop, chest heaving as he keeps you tucked against his chest, sweat formed at his temples as he murmurs your name. Over and over, like it’s some sort of prayer – and to him, maybe it is.

Your homework, complete and neatly filled out, lays forgotten as he hugs you tighter, burying his face into your neck. Declarations of love slip past his lips, slurred and so grandiose it almost scares you. You’re just classmates, both attending the same university – nothing close to actual lovers, and certainly not in love. He’s just a classmate who offered to help tutor you. And yet, as he slowly, oh so fucking slowly, pulls out of you some twenty minutes later, you can’t find it in yourself to care.

He does help you keep up your grades in the class, and you really can’t fail this chemistry class, can you? It’s worth it to sit through the sappy, somewhat deranged confessions of how he wants to keep you with him forever and ever.

After all, he’s not serious, right?

Kei Tsukishima, Satori Tendou, Tadashi Yamaguchi, Morisuke Yaku, Takahiro Hanamaki, Aran Ojiro

(Honorary mention to those who have you cockwarm them so they can focus – you’re sat in their lap, with your head resting in the crook of his neck. One hand sits comfortably on your ass, the other scribbling across the paper or highlighting the textbook. His lips are wet from licking them, his heart rate so damn high as he tries to ignore the way your pretty body feels against his, your pussy all warm and wet and snug against the sensitive skin of his cock. He twitches, shudders, his whole body desperate to just move, to fuck that pretty cunt of yours that all spread out on him.

It's an accountability thing, more than anything – with each problem he finishes, he allows himself three good, solid thrusts into you. It’s a slow, methodical fucking, one that makes him all the more needy for you. He likes the delayed gratification of it all – the way he has to physically pause and count to ten before he starts his work again, trying to focus on literally anything but the way you sound moaning his name, how your nails feel against his back, how your thighs clench around his abdomen. He tries to focus on anything but the way he wants to stuff you so full of his cock that you’re crying, blabbering and dependent on him to even think.

And once he finishes his work? Oh – it’s over for you, and your poor, perfect little cunt.

He’ll destroy you.

Tetsurou Kuroo, Ryunosuke Tanaka, Tsutomu Goshiki, Yuji Terushima, Atsumu Miya)