#_tetsurou kuroo

[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)

[depravitycentral]

Cw: yandere, dub-con, oral (m receiving), degradation, cum play, spitting, photography, fem reader

When you ask him to call you pretty, he does.

Especially when he’s got you on your knees in front of him, chest heaving, your eyes a little teary. He likes how they get all glassy like this, your pretty hair all messed up and tangly from him gripping it so tightly.

He likes how your lips are still parted, swollen and pink, a bit of drool staining your chin, a bit of sweat at your temples. He likes how the mascara he’d asked you to wear is starting to run, the dark color leaving little trails across your cheeks that make him stifle a groan.

He likes the way your body looks in the pretty dress he’d picked out for you to wear, the satin material making your skin look even smoother and softer than normal. It’s his favorite color, you know – his favorite girl in his favorite color. It makes him blush like a school boy, but he knows you wouldn’t dare mention it.

He likes the way the gold jewelry he’d gifted you for this evening looks against your collarbones – dainty and loopy, his initials inscribed against your throat like a mark of ownership. It looks nice against the hickeys and bruises he’d sucked into your neck earlier, he thinks.

He likes the way one of your tits is hanging out of the dress, nipple perked up and taut, the material bunched up at its bottom. He’d had bad self control, he’ll admit – he wanted to keep you pristine and perfect for this, but his hands had a mind of their own.

But most of all, he likes the way his cum looks smeared across your face, the off-white making your skin glow. It’s in ribbons across your lips and cheeks, a bit on your forehead, even some in your hair. Cum stains the lovely jewelry you’re wearing, and he shudders at the sight. A dribble rolls down your breast, pooling at your nipple, before dripping down onto your lap.

He licks his lips.

“Ask me to call you pretty. Ask me if you’re pretty right now.” He says, and you do.

“Am I pretty?”

He’s silent for a moment, before a smile slowly spreads across his lips. His thumb comes up to your cheek, the pad rubbing against your skin – for comfort, you hope, though you know he’s just rubbing his cum harder against you, spreading it along your skin to claim you as his his his.

“So pretty.” He murmurs, and for a moment your heart leaps out of your chest.

But then the smile turns sour, like a rotten apple, and he pinches your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger.

“My pretty little slut, covered in my cum. What would all your friends and family say now, huh? Now that you’re just my little toy to fuck and taint?”

His voice is cruel, and fresh tears well up in your eyes as he whips his phone out, the flash of the camera blinding you.

“You’re very pretty, babe. Very. But I think you’d look even prettier with my cum in that pretty ass of yours, yeah?”

You don’t agree, but as he slaps your cheek and sneers down at you to get on your hands and knees, you do it.

You say nothing as the zipper of his suit trousers goes town, veiny hands tugging his tie looser around his neck, the white dress shirt he sports scrunched up at the elbows.

And when he flips up the bottom of your dress, nudging your legs apart and spitting down onto your pretty folds, you say nothing. What can you say? He’s right, after all.

You really are just his slut, and you’ll take whatever he gives you.

He thinks you’re pretty, after all.

Tetsurou Kuroo, Kei Tsukishima, Tooru Oikawa, Kenjiro Shirabu, Kenji Futakuchi, Rintarou Suna Pariston Hill, Shalnark, Milluki Zoldyck

[depravitycentral]

hi, lee!! I love your blog, it feels like a secret yandere database for some reason LOL. This is just an idea and ignore it if it's not your thing but can you write something with a taller reader? Maybe spotlight some love for tall girls ☺️ I'm a sub through and through so of course I have a size kink but it's hard when I'm literally bigger than everyone ;-;

Tw: non/dub-con, misogyny, oral, weird power dynamics that should really be examined by the yandere's therapist, this got really long so hopefully it all makes sense, fem reader, taller reader, MDNI Also thank you for the kind words and feeling comfortable enough to share a possible insecurity of yours! Hopefully this helps you feel more submerged when you read. Enjoy :)

As a genuinely short person (about 5 ft/150 cm), I cannot relate to your struggle, but I am here to help! To all my tall gals/guys/everyone, you deserve to be loved obsessively and suffocatingly, both in and out of the bedroom <3

Let's tackle that kink trouble first - no matter how tall you are, there are always those who are taller. Some beast of a man that towers over you with inhuman height and size, his muslces corded along his chest and arms the same size as your head. He's massive, and to him you're nothing more than an adorable little thing - something for him to hold and cuddle and squeeze and break.

Yanderes like Uvogin, who, although he'd be apt to fall for a darling of any size, almost prefers someone who's a bit taller, a bit bigger, a bit more capable of just handling him, more capable of keeping up with everything he wants to do to you. Someone who won't squeal and scream and cry when they're underneath him, at least not in real pain. (He conveniently forgets that despite your height you're still fragile, still a precious little thing that can't take the hours of fucking he has planned for you, who can't let him fuck into you so roughly that your ass is left black and blue, your muscles twitching and shaking so hard you can't even stand...)

For those yanderes who do possess size kinks, honestly your physical dimensions play a very minor role - it's more about control, about the fact that he is the one with all the power, that he is making you whine and shake and curl up into yourself with each orgasm he forces from your body. It's more about how you're so very frail and fragile, regardless of whether you're 4 feet tall or 7. You're putty in his hands, and he still has the ability to destroy you, if he so pleased.

(Besides, you'll always look small when you're lying underneath him, wrists bound above your head and staring up at him with big wide eyes and a trembling lip as he toys with your clit again, denying you the high you've been begging for the entire night.)

(You'll always look so tiny and weak when you're on your knees, his cock smacking against your face or neck, cum smeared across your lips and trailing along your cheeks. You're where you belong, after all, and you should know your place as a subservient, doting woman - even a tall woman.)

It's not like he can't do exactly what he wants with you just because you have some extra height - your pussy still sends him into a haze, lust clouding his vision as his hand jerks and wanders down between his legs, cock throbbing and drooling precum because fuck, he wants to bend you over and get you screaming his name.

It's not like he can't bury his face between your soft thighs and lick and suck until he's had his fill, fingers digging into your hips with his lips and cheeks stained with your slick and your thighs caging in his head so tightly he feels he may suffocate (and cum, but that's another matter entirely).

Height really doesn't hinder anything - yanderes are, by definition, utterly enraptured with their darling, and anything he wants you to become, you will. He wants you to be his precious little baby, his princess that he spoils and loves and stuffs full of his cum once a day? Done, he'll just make sure to get the longer leg option of those soft fuzzy pajama pants you love (and he does too, because god your ass looks good in them).

You want to be a little brat, spitting at him and fighting every command he gives? Well, you may be tall, sure, but you'll crumble very quickly with a few slaps to your ass, a few fingers plugging your cute little hole, a few growls in your ear to behave, slut.

Frankly, most yanderes will have a way of making you feel smaller than dirt, even if you really aren't - it's something about the weight of their stare, about the way they touch you with such force and authority, or with such gentleness and care. They'll have you feeling small and weak and helpless, and before long you won't even really feel tall - you'll feel like their precious little thing, all docile and kind and attentive to their every need, no matter how pathetic or demeaning or embarrassing.

One last thing I'll mention is that quite a few shorter yanderes actually really enjoy the notion of a taller darling, despite conventions. They like the idea of you being their woman, tall and strong and Amazonian in a sense, even if you're not really so. They like that they have someone so beautiful and womanly, and that you have more flesh to grab onto, to squeeze and need and touch. They enjoy standing by your side, maybe having to look up at you while they smack your ass or shyly bite their lip when you catch them staring. They just like the way you tower over them, taking up all their line of sight and fuck, your tits are right fucking there, how can he resist?

While I try not to talk about physical specifications yanderes look for, a few I could see being particularly likely to have a tall darling are:

Chrollo Lucilfer, Uvogin, Knuckle, Yuu Nishinoya, Shoyou Hinata, Kei Tsukishima, Tetsurou Kuroo

[depravitycentral]

Thinking of the men who love watching you touch yourself.

It’s dirty, sinful, taboo, but nothing gets them harder faster than seeing your legs spread, your little fingers buried knuckle deep in that tight cunt of yours.

They’ll tell you to lay back on the bed, pillows under your head as strong hands each grasp an ankle, licking his lips as he slowly, oh so slowly, brings your legs apart. He wants your legs spread as wide as they can go, pussy fully on display for his prying, predatory eyes.

He’ll tell you to prep yourself for him, to stretch yourself out, to get yourself soaking wet, dripping for him. His voice is low and husky, deep enough to send shivers down your spine. He’ll tell you to touch yourself like you’re imagining it’s him, like you’re putting on a show, like you want him to come untouched simply from looking at you.

(Not like it’s hard – he’s come untouched from the mere thought of you before, after all.)

He wants to see you play with yourself – touch your tits, squeezing and fondling at the soft fat. He wants to see you bite your lip and keen as you roll a nipple between your fingers, pulling lightly and watching as your thighs twitch. He wants to watch you trail a finger down your stomach, down over the pudge and right around your cute little clit. But no – you can’t touch it yet. No no, not yet, not until he’s given you permission – see, you’re his good girl, and good girls follow orders.

No, for now you’ve gotta rub around it – big, big circles that leave you wanting more, the phantom pleasure making your toes curl.

Everything is more intense under his watchful, observant gaze – and he’s watching, eyes boring into you so hard feel you’re on fire. His own hand lies on his knee, fingers twitching occasionally, fighting the urge to pin you down and just fuck you, to get you creaming around his cock and squeezing him like he knows you can. But no, this is about you – and he knows how much you love to wait.

Touch your little clit baby, slow circles.

You do as your told, fingers reaching down to draw slow circles on your sensitive bud, the sensation making your hips jolt forward. Small moans slip past your lips, the sounds making his cock visibly bob, the vein running along the side pronounced.

It hurts, not touching himself. Not touching you.

Faster baby, like how I do it.

You obey, fingers rubbing quickly, the circles tighter, and suddenly he can’t take it – he’s breathing heavily, his entire face flushed, the sight of you pleasuring yourself making every muscle in his body twitch with desperation. Your eyes are closed, letting the feeling sink over you, knowing he’s sitting on the edge of his seat simply watching you, precum dripping down his length and even onto his aching balls.

Does it feel good baby? As good as I do it?

Of course it doesn’t, you tell him. No one can do it as well as he can. He groans at that, gravelly and heavy, his self restraint barely hanging on.

Fuck yourself with your fingers baby, fuck – wanna see you make a mess all for me. Wanna hear it, let me hear how wet I make you.

You gasp airily as you slip a finger inside, the other hand taking over rubbing your clit in fervent, desperate circles. You curl your finer, brushing against that spongy spot that has your toes curling and your eyes sinking to the back of your head.

He licks his lips, eyes the way your tits bounce with every movement, the wet squelching sound as you play with your pussy driving him mad.

Tell me what it feels like baby.

You babble on about how it’s so good but not enough, how you don’t feel full, how you want him, how you need his cock, please need it so bad, feel so empty…

His nails dig into his thighs as he stares, his cock bright red and so heavy it’s sagging.

F-fuck, you know the rules, gotta come before you get my cock. Even saying it out loud hurts him.

You whine, shaking your head and interrupting yourself with a choked moan, your hips bucking upwards. You’re close, he can tell – can almost smell it.

Come for me.

And you do – with a long, drawn out moan and a desperate twitching of your hips. It’s intense, knowing he’s scrutinizing every spasm of your body, the way your lips part into that pretty ‘o’, your eyes squeezing shut and your back arching, forcing your tits into the air. He bites back the urge to lunge forward and suck one pert nipple into his mouth, to taste it, to taste you.

You’re gasping and heaving, and when you peel your eyes open to look at him, his resolve suddenly snaps.

He’s on you before you can breath, pinning your wrists above your head and blindly humping at your sensitive cunt, the sensation making you hiss and twitch. He groans, lips pushing against your own, the taste of you making his mind cloudy. A hand clumsily reaches between your bodies, grasping onto himself and lining up, pushing into you in one big, much too fast thrust and fuck –

He’s gasping and letting his mouth gape open, the pleasure so, so good as he thrusts in and out, in and out, your velvety walls sucking him in and milking him for all he’s worth. You’re so fucking pretty, all sensitive and needy for him, and as he bends his head down to suck at a bouncing nipple, he finds himself thanking anything that’s listening that he switched out those birth control pills you insisted on taking with sugar.

And when you’re leaking his cum five minutes later, he can’t help but grin – you’ll be such a pretty mommy, and now you’ll never, ever want to leave him. Perfect.  

Koushi Sugawara, Hajime Iwaizumi, Shinsuke Kita, Kourai Hoshiumi, Tetsurou Kuroo, Kenjirou Shirabu