Thread by @cathienated

Angel!Oikawa x Mortal!Iwa ✨
#iwaoi

Iwaizumi isn’t sure what he did in a previous life to deserve this. He isn’t sure what he did in /this/ life to deserve this. He’s a good person, he’s guesses, but he was never religious. Certainly never devout.

If someone asked him if he believed in god, he would’ve probably shrugged. If someone asked if he believed in angels, he would’ve scoffed.

Until the day that an angel literally landed in his lap, saying something about being his guardian angel and being named Oikawa.

Iwaizumi didn’t even scream in shock at first; the first thing he said to his supposed guardian was how he was a terrible guardian angel for falling onto him while he was driving down a busy highway. He shoved Oikawa aside just in time to avoid rear-ending the car ahead of him.

Despite their first words to each other being an angry shout from Iwaizumi and an indignant squawk from Oikawa, they quickly fell into a comfortable relationship, with Oikawa doing much better than their first interaction at keeping Iwaizumi out of danger.

Sure, it took a while for Iwaizumi to wrap his head around the fact that angels not only exist but also that he has one assigned to him by some version of god.

But it wasn’t hard to convince himself that he wants Oikawa to stick around.

He’d like to say it’s because of Oikawa’s wit, or his competence at helping Iwaizumi with all aspects of his life. Maybe it’s his aggravating but also comforting companionship that Iwaizumi has begrudgingly come to love and cherish.

It’s all of that, of course, but if Iwaizumi is honest with himself, it’s also because of Oikawa’s chestnut-colored hair. It’s the golden glimmer in his eyes. It’s the expanses of fair, freckled skin left exposed by the lacy, sheer, and shockingly revealing outfit he wears.

Oikawa had scolded Iwaizumi for his close-mindedness when Iwaizumi asked about the outfit—weren’t angels supposed to be chaste or something?—and explained how modern conceptions of god aren’t always true.

Not that Iwaizumi is complaining. Quite the opposite actually.

Inevitably, the warmth in Oikawa’s eyes when he looked at Iwaizumi morphed into something more than protectiveness. More than companionship.

Iwaizumi thinks the way he looked at Oikawa was akin to this long ago.

If Oikawa’s god isn’t as lenient with romantic relationships between mortals and angels as they are with angels’ choice of clothing, it never comes up. Whether from lack of need to bring it up or simply denial, Iwaizumi doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to know.

All he knows is that he has the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his bed every night, creamy wings tucked against his back, serene face tucked against Iwaizumi’s neck.

// heading to dinner but I’m gonna write a little something body worship-y on privatter to share later :)

// based on this

https://twitter.com/cathienated/status/1538990539206365184

Iwaizumi buries his face in the top of Oikawa’s hair, which somehow manages to always smell like honeysuckle and fresh air, while running his hand down Oikawa’s bare side, tapping his fingers lightly on the faint smattering of freckles that extends even down his ribs.

The decadent satin, lace, and sheer fabric that covers his arms, upper chest, and legs make him look more debauched than if he were completely naked. The luxurious material once again is contrary to Iwaizumi's understanding of what angels prioritize,

(isn't poverty a virtue or something?) but he's long since learned not to question these things, lest Oikawa pout and scold him.

He'll put up an act—scoffing and flicking Oikawa's wings—pretending he's fed up with Oikawa. He'll never admit it just makes him fonder of the angel.

Oikawa giggles into Iwaizumi's neck when fingers trail over his ribcage. He sighs softly when Iwaizumi runs his hand down the outermost feathers of his large, downy wings. He trembles when Iwaizumi toys with the silky band of his stockings, wrapped snugly around his thigh.

"You're beautiful," Iwaizumi murmurs into Oikawa's ear, snaking a finger past the band, making sure not to snag the delicate, sheer fabric of the stocking with his nail.

"Vanity is a sin," Oikawa mumbles, even as his wings flutter happily.

Iwaizumi snorts softly. "Since when? As if you don't beg for compliments from me on the daily."

Oikawa mutters something that sounds like "I dunno." or maybe "No, I don't." Iwaizumi wants to laugh at how Oikawa must be the most hypocritical and uninformed angel to ever exist,

but frankly, he has better things to do than pester Oikawa (though he won't deny that it is one of his favorite pastimes).

"Well, I've never claimed to be a saint," Iwaizumi says, running his hand further down Oikawa's thigh. Oikawa snorts, as if saying, "I /know/ you're not."

Iwaizumi detaches himself from Oikawa's face to the latter's dismay. Oikawa lets out a little whine as Iwaizumi shuffles down, closer to the foot of the bed. He knows Oikawa well enough to know that he won't be complaining for much longer though.

He cradles Oikawa's left heel in his hand and presses a kiss to the knob of bone at his ankle, the sheer stocking between his lips and Oikawa's skin thin enough to not be a bothersome barrier.

"What are you doing?" Oikawa asks, his breath hitching.

"Worshipping you," Iwaizumi murmurs, lips ghosting over Oikawa's calf. "You are an angel after all, aren't you?"

“Yeah, I am,” Oikawa huffs, probably in an attempt to sound haughty. But his breathy voice completely negates the effect.

Instead, he sounds needy. Wanton. /Sinful./

Continued on Privatter...

CW NSFW (minors dni) & VERY improper use of the Lo/rd's Pra/yer

privatter.net/p/8998816

thank you very much to @empressvegah for the idea/request for this entire thread 💛