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kuroopaisen · 4 years

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09:03 am || iwaizumi hajime

➵ iwaizumi can’t find his favourite jumper.

wc: 831

warnings: implied f!reader? maybe? can be linked to tiny love if you so desire

a/n: yue my love, this one’s for you. i’m not sure if you’ll see this, but if you do, i hope you’ll enjoy (sorry it’s shorter hhh). i value and appreciate your honesty and how willing you are to discuss and stand up for your thoughts. believe it or not, but i’ve learnt a lot from you. and, most of all, thank you for not only sharing these things with me, but also for supporting me in turn. i adore you and your feral racoon energy dksjklfdj

Iwaizumi likes to think that he’s good with the cold. He rarely complains about it – he rarely complains about anything, actually – and he’s done plenty of morning runs to know what cold really feels like.

But even he’s susceptible to a chilly five degrees. And the one thought running through his head during his jog back from his morning classes is that he really, really should’ve brought a jumper.

His warmest jumper was a good six years old, bought absentmindedly at the beginning of a particularly cold winter. It’s only grey, and so well-worn that the inner lining was soft as that Godzilla plush he’d coveted when he was six (not that he let anyone know about that). Iwaizumi isn’t the type to get too attached to physical things, but there’s something about that jumper that rooted a deep attachment to it in his mind.

Maybe he felt it symbolised something. Maybe all the memories he’d had in it had weaved themselves amongst the cheap fabric. Wither way, there was something sentimental about it.

After all, it had persisted through half a decade, and proved itself worthy enough to fly across the Pacific Ocean with him.

Twice. He’s gone through the laundry twice. And not a peep of that beloved grey sweater.

He sighs, rising to full height. There’s no chance he left it at uni, is it? No, but he didn’t take it to this morning… And he’d seen it the other night. He knows he put it in the wash.

He grunts, stalking out the laundry with clenched fists. How hard was it to find one jumper? Sure, any other jumper would do, but now it was about the principle.

He frowns as he approaches your door, not quite sure what he’s planning to ask you. Maybe you’ll have a more observant eye than him, if possible.

He knocks on your door thrice, as he always does.

“Come in!” You call, your voice light and cheerful. He’s glad, at least, that you seem to be having a good day.

He opens your door with a sigh, stepping into your exceedingly warm room. Your little heater appears to be working overtime, planted next to your desk but somehow emanating throughout the entire room.

You swivel round on your chair, eyes round and curious as you look at him.

Iwaizumi’s breath catches in his throat.

You’re perched on your seat with your knees drawn up to your chest, tucked under… his jumper.

Oh fuck. Oh shit.

“Everything okay?” You ask, tilting your head at him.

That just made you cuter. Shit—

“Uh, nothing,” he shakes his head.

“You sure?” You blink at him, a little baffled.

He wants to curse himself out.

You shouldn’t be so cute, just sitting there. You’ve made no effort to look ‘nice’, with messy hair and bags under your eyes, but somehow that adds to your charm.

But you’re gazing at him so innocently, in his jumper, like there’s nothing strange about it. And perhaps it is, in your mind. But his heart is saying otherwise. You look like you belong in it; like this is something so natural, so expected that he shouldn’t even so weird about this.

“Yeah,” he says, suddenly remembering that you’d asked him a question. “Good luck with your work.”

“Thanks,” you smile.

His ribs feel like they’re about to crack.

He nods, turning around. You’re out of sight, but you’re certainly not out of mind. He can tell that image of you in his sweater, as innocuous as anything and certainly not as big a deal as his body is making it out to be, will plaster itself at the back of his mind for a long time to come.

An ill-advised thought zips through his mind as he leaves. He stops at the threshold of your room, his back still turned to you.

You frown a little. Is everything okay?

I’m a weak, weak man, he thinks to himself. The heat in your room is unbearable now, but his desire to say the next few words are even more so.

“Keep it,” he says, looking at you over his shoulder. “It looks good on you.”

The words would’ve been enough for you to combust on the spot.

But it’s the little smirk that really does it.

Has your room always felt this warm? Or is it finally time to turn your heater down? Because your face feels really, really hot. A ‘I need to dump my head into a bucket of ice’ kind of hot.

You hadn’t intended to steal his jumper. It was just the first thing you’d found in the laundry this morning that was clean and looked warm. You’d planned to put it back before he got back from university; you’d just lost track of time.

But it’s yours now, apparently; even though it smells so much like him. That was one of the reasons you’d absentmindedly picked it up.

Oh, shit.

You’ve got it bad.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #tiny love #fluffvember 2020

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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years

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Twisted Dream

Yandere!Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader

WARNING: Contents include somnophilia, non-con/dub-con, drugging, unhealthy perceptions, “yandere” behavior, blackmail, emotional manipulation, and an unreliable narrator. Readers discretion is advised.

(All underaged characters are aged up. I do not writer minors in adult situations. Izuku is over 18 here)

Izuki snuck into the master bedroom undetected, quiet as a mouse. He groped around in the shadows but quickly found his footing. He passed around the room as if he had been within the confines of Katsuki's bedroom several times beforehand. But not for the reason one might think. It was never his rival and school bully that garnered Izuku's obsession. Somebody like Katsuki could never understand how good he had it. Top-ranking pro-hero, wealthy, and above all married to the most beautiful woman ever born. Someone who bullied and stepped on others to get what they wanted could never understand the passion made manifest in Izuku.

How did Katsuki manage to bag a refined woman like you, Izuku wondered. You had all the gifts and virtues Katsuki so desperately lacked. You were cultured, intelligent, witty, and oh-so-delicate. You were as fragile as a porcelain doll. How did only Izuku see it? He thought about how Katsuki looked at you from time to time. A piece of meat, a trophy wife, an art piece for him to show off to all his friends. Izuku never saw love in Katsuki's eyes for you, only admiration of you brought to the table of his pride and reputation. It churned Izuku's stomach watching from afar. All of your smiles had to be fake underneath it all. There was no way you could smile with any sincerity while holding Katsuki's hand.

So, there he was. He was standing in the middle of that bedroom with both you and Katsuki, unaware of his presence. Izuku heard your slow, steady breathing. Unhurried, Izuku made his way over to you and watched you sleep. Your clothes were rumpled and wrinkled from when you probably fell asleep as soon as the drug took effect. You discarded your shoes by the door, a fact Izuku confirmed when he almost tripped over them while sneaking inside. For the longest time, Izuku stood there to watch you. You were perfectly, completely unaware of what caused your sudden dizziness and strolled to your room to lay down for the rest of the evening. What you didn't know was that Izuku had followed behind to make sure that you didn't hurt yourself on the way up. It was the least he could do since it was his fault. You left your drink unattended. The wife of a pro-hero should have known bette

Izuku's hand trembled as he lifted the sheet and proceeded to make you more comfortable. Your silk dress in (favorite color) clung to your body like a second skin. Your darkened cheeks made you look so-deliciously innocent once you were naked. Moonlight streaming between the curtains cast a silver glow on your skin. Your soft, rounded breasts heaved with each breath; Izuku licked his lips. The bed dipped slightly under his weight. He crawled over your body and delighted in how the coolness of the evening somehow made your skin softer and more pliable than if you lay sweating in humid summer.

Izuku palmed your breasts, marveling at your twin peaks. He noticed how quickly your nipples pebbled at the first touch of his hand. Izuku threw off his shirt, vest, and tie and let them all pile on the floor. Katsuki wouldn't be coming upstairs anytime soon; Izuku made sure of it. Izuku's eager hands felt up your body. Since you couldn't protest, Izuku caressed, groped, and even pinched to his heart's content. Goosebumps arose all over your flesh. You shuddered in your dreamless slumber, only vaguely aware of what was happening to you. It felt more like a hyper-realistic dream than a dangerous reality. Izuku bent his head down and took one of your nipples into his mouth. He looked up at your face to make sure that you hadn't stirred too much before he started sucking. He licked and sucked on your breast like a hungry baby. He moaned softly while his other hand teased your other breast. Izuku bobbed his head while he sucked, unable to stop his hunger, then switched places. He treated the other as the first until he covered your chest in his spit and love bites. The dark violet marks stood out like bright arrows marking you as his.

Izuku felt himself harden with all of his administration. Just touching you was enough to get him going. He could come then and there, spraying your body with more marks of his possession. But it wouldn't be enough. Katsuki needed to know that he may have married you, but that didn't make you 'his.' That honor belonged to someone else, and Izuku was about to demonstrate that. His calloused fingers ran down your torso, played with your plush hips, and scored down your legs. He rubbed your muscles, then moved back up again. Your thighs parted with ease for him. Izuku shuddered as you opened to him like a flower bursting into bloom. Thin curly (hair color) hair hid a fantastic treasure. Izuku parted your folds and uncovered that sweet-looking bundle of nerves. He needed you to feel good before he did; Izuku couldn't control himself anymore.

Izuku dove between your legs. Your taste was unlike any other. He practiced on peaches for tonight, unsure of himself how best to please you. When you moaned in your sleep, he took it to mean to continue. Even in your sleep, you trusted that he could please you better than Katsuki could. Izuku licked and teased you with his tongue buried inside of you. His fingers were busy pinching your clit. His touch made you whine helplessly. Though still unconscious, your body shifted, and your hands twisted in the sheets. Izuku moaned as he worked. It wasn't long before he felt your walls flutter then clench tight. A flood of your essence coated his mouth. Izuku cleaned up the mess he made of you as he didn't want to waste a single drop.

Izuku’s cock strained against his pants. He stripped bare and quickly rearranged your body. You were still wonderfully pliant when he laid you out on your stomach with your head facing towards the door. Izuku pulled at your hips until he lifted them off the bed. He spread you open, the sight of which made him pause. Not out of anything like morality, but to adore your wet cunt he was about to ruin for Katsuki.

Izuku didn't wait. His pulse hammered against his temples as he aligned his cock against you. With one thrust, he buried his cock to the hilt. A groan erupted from deep within his throat. You felt so warm, wet, and tight inside for him; it was all for him.

"I love your body so much right now, Y/N. You're so tight and warm for me." Izuku started moving.

You moaned in your sleep while Izuku impaled you over and over. He roughly grabbed your hips and brought your body closer to his. There was almost no space between you. A thin sheen of sweat appeared on Izuku's brow as he plowed into you. He grit his teeth to keep himself from thrusting harder and hurting you. Your tight walls made it almost impossible for him 'not' to want to fuck you into the mattress. He wished that your eyes would open, and you saw him. Izuku wondered what your voice would sound like once you were splayed out for his pleasure alone. Would you mewl like a kitten or scream like a banshee as he fucked you?

Izuku couldn't imagine you acting like a tigress in bed. No, you were pure and simple. So easily corruptible. He was going to make you crave no one else but him. Izuku thrust in your body until your walls clenched around him. Warmth spread over his cock as you unconsciously came around him. The feeling of you surrounding him was enough to make Izuku throw caution to the wind. He bruised your hips while slamming hard into your tight cunt.

Izuku snapped his hips harshly against yours. His eyes scanned the room while he was still fucking your sleeping body. In the dark, a small red light shined in the corner of the room. Anybody wouldn't notice it unless they knew what they were looking for. He positioned himself so that the camera got a good look at what was being done to you. The camera didn't record audio, just video. Izuku would have to save a copy for himself later.

The thought of Katsuki eventually seeing his wife being railed from behind sent a pleasurable thrill through Izuku's body. His orgasm zipped shot down his body to his cock. Surrounded by your warm, tight walls, he came. Izuku bit his lower lip to keep himself from crying out too loud. He emptied himself. Slowly, Izuku pulled out. He quickly went to work erasing what he could of his presence in the room. There was a bathroom attached to the master bedroom; he used to dampen a washcloth and clean you up. Izuku dressed quickly and made a swift exit.

Three weeks later, Katsuki received an anonymous package at his agency. After testing it for drugs or explosives, he found a seemingly innocuous flash drive. He put it into his computer, and the flash drive contained only a single file. Katsuki played it, then read the note found inside the envelope: If you don't divorce your wife, we will make this video public. How does it feel, hero, to have been unable to stop what happened to your wife?

You fell quickly into Izuku's waiting arms. It was as if he knew you needed a shoulder to cry on. You silenced that nagging little voice in your head that said something was off. Izuku wouldn't have any reason to know why Katsuki started filing; they hadn't spoken in years. While you wept into Izuku's chest, clinging to him like a life-saving buoy, you couldn't see the smile creeping on his face.

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