inarizzki

[inarizzki]

I had to redraw him in his angelic form

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the work of art that you are 𖹭

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he wants dat cookie so effing bad

[inarizzki]

[inarizzki]

"But if Kenma likes doing something, he'll do his best, so don't worry!"

ok well what if i sexualize that

[inarizzki]

⋆｡°✩ unrecognized, part 3 °｡⋆

kenma kozume x fem!reader

things went so much that a month passed by with kenma after he confessed to you that night, but you've never really talked about it yet.

➤ masterlist

genre: fluff, romance

tags: kenma x fem!reader, univ setting, fluffy ! DAMN KENMA (yes that's a tag)

notes: i think you'll be a bit lost if you haven't read the first two parts so i recommend you to please do so ! this is the final part of unrecognized, i hope you guys like it <3 nothing left to say teehee

“again.”

you don’t even get the chance to respond before he leans in once more, brushing his lips against yours like it's the easiest thing in the world.

he tilts his head slightly to the side, deepening the kiss with slow, unhurried intent. his hand lifts to cradle your face gently—his thumb strokes the curve of your cheek, grounding you even as the world around you seems to melt into a hazy blur.

then he pulls away, but not without stealing one more kiss. a final, teasing peck, like punctuation to the moment. he smiles as he does it too, something soft and a little smug pulling at his lips.

you… well… again…

you don’t even know how this became your life.

it’s been over a month since he first came over to your dorm, unexpectedly, takeout bags in hand, his usual hoodie slung over one shoulder like it belonged there.

you remember the way the light from your laptop glowed in the dim room, how the movie you picked played mostly as background noise while you talked.

that night was easy. great, even. it felt like pressing play on something long overdue.

from there, it unfolded naturally. he got your number, finally. and suddenly, he was around more—dropping by during your breaks, claiming the seat next to you in the library during your empty hours, walking beside you on grocery runs like it was the most normal thing in the world.

little by little, kenma threaded himself into the fabric of your life. until one day, you looked up and realized—he was already a part of it.

and then, things like this started happening.

this wasn’t even the first time, to be honest. you’ve learned a lot about kenma in the past few weeks, but something that stood out almost immediately was how smooth he could be when he wanted to.

he had a quiet way of slipping past your defenses, like water finding the smallest crack. it was the same energy he brought when he first kissed you—no warning, just his arms around your waist and his mouth on yours like he knew exactly where he belonged.

you couldn’t even blame him. not when you were just as guilty. and here you are again, limbs tangled on your couch in another one of these slow-burning, heart-thudding makeout sessions that leave your mind a little scrambled.

you like it. all of it. the way your life has shifted in this short span of time, the way it feels more full somehow. more real.

but even now, a question quietly stirs at the back of your mind. it’s been hovering there for a while now, unspoken and unaddressed:

where are you two right now?

it always seemed this unspoken thing between the two of you. the progression of the past month was definitely not forced—it did seem you both wanted it. it felt so effortless, so natural, like following a current.

huh. you got lost in all of these that you forgot to talk it through with him.

“again.”

he’s leaning in again, clearly not done with you yet, but you gently press your palm against his chest, holding him back. not forcefully—just enough.

“wait.”

kenma pauses, just barely, his golden eyes flicking up from your lips to your eyes. he looks a little confused, but he doesn’t move away completely.

“hmm?”

you take a breath. his closeness makes it harder to think, so you shift slightly, putting a bit more space between you. even then, you’re still facing him, your fingers curling slightly against his hoodie as you search for the right words.

“what… what’s happening?”

he tilts his head, like a cat hearing something unfamiliar.

“huh? we’re making out.”

his answer is so matter-of-fact, so kenma, it almost makes you laugh. but instead, you sigh and try again.

“no, i know that, just—” you falter, glancing away for a moment as you try to collect your thoughts.

you can tell he’s waiting for you to finish, to explain yourself, but under his quiet gaze, you falter. the words don’t come as smoothly as you want them to. you shake your head.

“nevermind. let’s just talk about it later.”

you try to move past it, leaning in this time, but it’s his turn to stop you. he places his hand gently against your arm.

“what’s on your mind?”

his voice is softer now. more careful. he looks at you with real concern, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear with the lightest touch.

“tell me.”

and god, you’re so weak for him when he’s like this.

“i mean,” your voice comes out quieter now, a little uncertain, “i guess we just never talked about... all of this.”

“what do you mean?”

“just…” you hesitate again, then push forward. “i feel like things have gone so fast we forgot to confirm what we are or something.”

you take a breath, eyes locked on him. “i mean, things are going great, but what is… us? what do you think?”

he listens. you see it in the way his eyes focus, the way he sits up straighter, more attentive now.

“i want to know what’s in your mind, kenma.”

a pause.

“i see.”

he shifts his weight a little, propping his elbow on the back of the couch as he faces you more fully. when he speaks, it’s after a moment of thoughtful silence.

“well, i guess, i’m… happy.”

happy? that’s it?

“that’s such a basic answer, but honestly, that’s what i’m thinking right now.”

he chuckles a little, looking toward the ceiling as if trying to put the right words together.

“up until a month ago, i used to be your acquaintance. i was just the guy who tagged along with your friend’s boyfriend… mostly so i could catch a glimpse of you.”

that makes your heart stop for a second. you weren’t expecting that.

“it was like i was close, but still far. and i hated it. i wanted to do something about it. i kept waiting for the chance.” he looks back at you now, eyes warm with memory.

“and then that night i talked to you, it happened.”

he laughs quietly, like he’s reliving it.

“did you know i was panicking inside before i followed you to the kitchen?”

you blink at him. “really?”

“of course.” he grins, a little bashful now. “it was my first proper conversation with you and i was going to tell you that i thought you were really pretty.”

your heart stutters.

you always thought he said that so casually that night. as if it meant nothing. but now…

“when i left the room i had to calm myself down. kuroo thought i was having a panic attack.”

you burst into laughter, and he smiles at the sound. it’s quiet, but genuine.

“but i’m happy i did that. after i talked to you, it’s like a big burden was off my chest. it felt easier, i guess.”

he reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. he stares at them for a second, thumb brushing gently over your knuckles.

“well, that’s what i think.”

you stay quiet, watching him.

“i’m sorry if we haven’t talked about it. maybe i got too distracted with everything, too,” he murmurs, “but also… i get kind of panicky whenever i think about formally asking you to be my girlfriend. it’s stupid.”

you tilt your head, an amused look rising on your face.

“but you can kiss me as soon as you burst through my dorm?” you tease, lifting an eyebrow.

he shrugs, smiling. “well, i’m better in action.”

then he shifts, gaze locking with yours again. this time, there’s no hesitation in his expression. only clarity.

“and before we continue that—” he leans a little closer, still holding your hand.

“yn. can you be mine?”

you can’t help it—you grin. your cheeks warm as you chuckle, your fingers tightening slightly around his.

“i think i’ve been yours since that night, kenma.”

he lets out a breath of laughter, his smile soft and full of quiet relief. he looks down for a second, like he’s grounding himself in this moment. then he looks back at you.

“good.”

the silence that settles after is anything but awkward. his hand is warm on your waist, your other hand resting over his heart. everything around you feels still, like time itself is pausing to give you room to breathe this in.

you’re actually here with him. this close. and it feels… right.

you didn’t feel uncomfortable at all—which was weird, maybe. given that your first proper conversation was his confession, you thought you’d be more on guard about him.

but you’re not. since that encounter, he was all over your mind. and you’re feeling all of these things.

you feel steady. safe. at ease in a way that surprises you.

you want to get even closer. to curl up against him and stay like that for hours. you want to tell him how you spent your afternoon obsessively looking up that obscure artist he had playing from his phone the other day.

you want to listen to his stories. you wanted to hear more from him. you wanted to know his thoughts, and make you wonder why it took you this long to get to know him better.

you want everything. everything about him.

“kenma.”

he’s still looking at you.

“hmm?”

“thank you.”

his brows raise slightly. “what for?”

you don’t answer right away. instead, you bury yourself in his neck, breathing in the warmth of him. he stiffens for a moment—caught off guard—but then he relaxes, wrapping his arms around you with a quiet sigh.

“for talking to me that night,” you murmur against his skin. “i’m happy i got to know you like this.”

you pull back just enough to look at him, your lips tugging into a small, sincere smile.

“and i want to get to know you more. until i know every single thing about you.”

kenma chuckles quietly, heart thudding beneath your hand.

“alright.”

he leans down again, lips brushing yours with a tenderness that speaks volumes.

and this time, when he kisses you, it feels like a beginning.

[inarizzki]

ON EDGE

౨ৎ — beware of masturbation, fingering, orgasm control, degredation, praise, manhandling, orgasm denial, slight size kink, and overstimulation.

sukuna watches you with a lazy, predatory grin, his chin propped up on his fist as he lounges back against the cushions. you’re spread out before him, thighs trembling, fingers working frantically between them—but it’s not enough. you whine, high and desperate, and he just tsks, shaking his head.

“look at you,” he coos, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “such a pretty little thing, fucking yourself on your own fingers like you’ve got any chance of coming without me.” his tongue drags over his bottom lip, eyes locked on the way your clit pulses, swollen and angry under your touch. “god, your poor puffy clit. all red and throbbing, begging for my mouth, my cock—anything. and here you are, trying to pretend your tiny fingers are enough.”

you whimper, hips jerking, but he doesn’t move. just watches.

“you’re so fucking wet,” he growls, nostrils flaring as the scent of you fills the air. “dripping down your thighs like a slut. bet you’d cream yourself the second i touched you, huh? just one finger, one little press—” he mimics the motion in the air, and you sob, clenching around nothing. “—and you’d scream. but i’m not gonna give it to you. not yet.”

your back arches, toes curling, but he clicks his tongue. “ah-ah. don’t you dare come. not until i say.”

you choke out a plea, fingers moving faster, but he just laughs, low and dark. “fuck, look at you. so desperate you’d even try to disobey me. you really think you can come without permission? go ahead. try.” his voice drops to a whisper. “but you know what happens when you break the rules.”

you freeze, breath hitching.

“that’s what i thought.” he shifts, finally leaning forward, and your heart leaps—but all he does is drag a single claw down your inner thigh, making you shiver. “such a good girl, holding back for me. but you’re still touching yourself, aren’t you? still rubbing that needy little cunt like you’ve got any right to relief.” he leans in, breath hot against your ear. “stop.”

your hands fly away from your body like you’ve been burned, and he grins, satisfied. “better. now—” he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with one massive hand. “—let me see what a mess you’ve made.”

his large free hand trails down your stomach, fingers slipping through your slick with a filthy, wet sound. he groans, bringing them to his mouth, sucking your arousal off with a sinful smirk. “fuck, you taste perfect. all for me, isn’t it? every drop.”

you nod frantically, and he chuckles, finally dipping two fingers into your sopping cunt. you cry out, hips bucking, but he holds you down effortlessly. “none of that. you’ll take what i give you.” his fingers curl, dragging against that sweet spot inside you, and your vision whites out. “there it is,” he purrs. “that’s the spot, huh? the one that makes you see stars?”

you’re babbling now, begging, but he just fucks you harder, thumb pressing down on your clit with bruising force. “come on, sweetheart. let me hear you. scream my name like the filthy little thing you are.”

sukuna’s fingers work you ruthlessly, the slick sounds of your arousal filling the room as you writhe beneath him. his thumb grinds tight circles on your clit, the pressure just shy of painful, and your back arches off the cushions, a broken cry tearing from your throat.

"sukuna—!" you sob, his name a prayer, a plea, a curse.

he grins, all sharp teeth and dark amusement, watching as your thighs shake around his wrist. "louder," he demands, crooking his fingers just right, and you choke on a scream, your cunt fluttering around him. "that’s it. fucking milk my fingers like you were made for it."

your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, violent and all-consuming, but he doesn’t stop. his fingers keep moving, dragging you through the pleasure until it borders on agony, until you’re sobbing, oversensitive and desperate for relief.

"please—!" you gasp, tears streaking down your cheeks. "please, i can’t—!"

he tsks, finally slowing his movements, letting you ride out the last tremors of your release. "look at you," he murmurs, pulling his fingers free with a wet sound, your arousal glistening on his skin. "all wrecked and trembling just from my hand. pathetic."

but there’s a hunger in his eyes as he brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with a satisfied hum. "good thing i’m not done with you yet."

before you can even catch your breath, he’s flipping you onto your stomach, his palm pressing between your shoulder blades to keep you down. you whimper, but he just chuckles, the sound dark and promising.

"don’t worry, sweetheart," he purrs, his free hand spreading your thighs wider. "i’ll make sure you remember who you belong to."

[inarizzki]

sukuna like HOLY MOLY i need him

[inarizzki]

Full

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Haikyuu screencap redraws <3

[inarizzki]

🖤 The League of Villains 🖤

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denki

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Msmnnnememjhehannnannankdoeolsl

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stockings

wc: 0.3k content warning: smut, boifran osamu x reader, mention of slapping, not proofread.... oooosamu :3333 felt like this fit him so well

｡𓂂 ˙ ͏ ◯ ༚

it's quite clear that osamu's an ass or thighs type of guy from the way you feel his eyes lingering on your legs the moment you sit.

his undivided attention, always fixated on the way your dough-like flesh melted onto your seat. or the way osamu never fails to land a hard and firm smack on one of your ass cheeks that make you flinch in surprise.

though, the image of you in stockings never came across his mind until you wore them. black and slightly sheer stockings that connected with your undergarments, covered by a short skirt made his cock throb with anticipation as he held back from ripping your skirt off. his beady dark chocolate eyes were intense and full of sinful intent, almost boring a hole into you as he was unable to keep his eyes off you.

the way osamu stared at the thick dark band at the top of your stockings as it encapsulated your plush thighs simply made his mouth water, thinking about how he wanted to immediately dive in. especially how your soft thighs just barely overflowed at the top, was like watching a delicacy getting filled to the tippy top with sauce that could burst and drip down the side at any given moment, making his eyes linger for far too long.

osamu couldn't wait to get his hands on your plush legs that night. the visuals engulfed his mind with images depicting how good you'd look ass up with your stockings on as well as your undergarments ripped apart to show your bare glistening pussy. thinking about the way your ass would sway with your whole body according to his every strong thrust was good enough to make him burst in his pants.

thinking about the way your ass would jiggle after every hard and hot slap made his cock twitch, how erotic this fantasy was. the way his big hands would wrap around your hair, holding you back in an arch that could break you into two as you took osamu so well. his droopy sadistic eyes couldn't wait to have their fill the moment he had alone time with you to teach you a lesson about dress code at work.

damn did he wanna tear into you right there and now.

masterlist here

[inarizzki]

loverrr

[inarizzki]

defender to one | shigaraki tomura

you’re only a few feet away from tomura as you stand in front of a judge and a jury. passionately defending his innocence, you present a sly commentary on society and press that your client be seen for the truth that heroes have twisted against him. in your closing statement, you plead that tomura be given the chance to re-enter society and to expect nothing but a changed man. if the jury decides otherwise, this will be nothing but the result of the heroes ostracizing yet another mentally ill civilian.

recess is granted for 15 minutes.

throughout the the trial, tomura knows that he will be walking away a free man. gazette. he paid good money for you and good fortune is what he will receive. he demands nothing less. after all, you are his lifetime lawyer.

he’s seen you win case after case, manipulate jury after jury, and walk out with millions upon millions. he’s also witnessed you beneath him in positions that could ruin your career.

whenever you take the the floor and perform in action, his sharp eyes would follow your every move. with such confidence, you'd think a lawyer would stand on business 24/7. on the contrary, tomura thinks about the times you'd squirm and submit to his touch. he wonders what your potential clients might think about your cries and whimpers, begging him to let you cum.

in his case, it hurts that he can't lay all ten fingers on you. the most he can do is pump maybe two or three into your soapy cunt. on top of that, he loves having your limbs bound to his carefully furnished bed. seeing you writhe and attempt to pull at the straps makes him desperate for you. he’d tease you tirelessly until you’d clamp down on his fingers in just the right way. his sleepy eyes would flash as you squirt all over his arm after relentlessly playing with your pussy.

another thought surfaces when your tits bounce as you converse with the jury. you're expertly expressive when performing to complete strangers. so much so that it’s evident no one is listening to you because they're too focused on your pretty little features.

this pisses tomura off. he doesn't care he's just as perverted as them; it doesn't count when he basically owns you. mind you this entire time his eyes have never left your body, and you are well aware of this.

there’s not much you can do about it anyway, even if you tried. you’ve both shared intimate moments so he has that to his advantage at least. no matter how much attention you hold, no one will ever be able to have you like he does.

especially when he’s had you bouncing on his cock like a madwoman. he’s seen you blab nonsense with drool slipping down the corner of your lips, crying his name over and over. you’ve had your thighs pressed against his, riding him cowgirl style, with your breasts swaying so freely. in his eyes, you’re incredibly sexy that he feels like you’re doing charity work.

he likes to make himself feel better when he threatens to place his thumb on your thigh even though he’s already got his other four gripping your flesh. he feels godly seeing your shiny lips tremble and terrified eyes prick with tears. he wouldn’t ever hurt you but he just can’t help himself.

not just that, but he can feel your pussy suffocate his dick, feeling how scared you are. it drives him crazy. he would take it upon himself to help your shaking body and pound into you from underneath.

you’d moan his name over and over. the impact of his balls slapping against your skin; you know your skin is red from the contact. you’d fuck him deep and rapid that a ring of precum would form around his cock and from the excessive wetness of your pretty pussy. sounds so obscene that anybody would get turned on just by hearing you both.

eventually, your jury is called back.

thoughts race tomura’s mind as you monologue. why do you protect him again? he can’t recall. for some reason someone claimed to see him disintegrate one of the top heroes and ‘had it on video’. the clip was never presented and this irritated you more than tomura so your main argument was the lack of evidence and hearsay. this society always chants for a revolution but, the moment someone tries to do something, everyone always ends up hiding away.

he cringes at the current moment. he could easily reduce the entire courtroom to ashes but he likes seeing his opponents struggle to beat him.

his eyes peel off your figure, for once, and cast to the shackles locked on his wrists and ankles. pathetic. the whole justice system takes no precaution whatsoever. the only upside to being ‘arrested’ is using these same cuffs on your own limbs later tonight. he can already imagine your face and gaping hole.

he hums as you walk over to his desk and take a seat next to him. how professional. he can’t wait to have you sprawled out and take his time eating you out. he wants a taste of you right here, right now. think of the faces when everyone finds out you’ve been sleeping with the most notorious man in the city. when everyone finds out you’re not a fighter for all but a defender to one.

to him, it’s clear as his conscience when the verdict announces that shigaraki tomura is a free man.

_._

gremlin noises

[inarizzki]

quick sketch from a while back