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kurinoot · 3 years

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forgive me father, for I have sinned [part 1]

-> a priest by the day, a incubus by night. an unexpected, sacrilegious combination. who knew that one person of such sacrilege have their eyes on you?

pairing: meian x afab!reader

themes: smut, 18+ MDNI, sacrilege (especially at part two), incubus!meian, priest!meian, virgin!reader, noncon/dubcon, mentions of somnophilia, fingering, pet names (little lamb), mentions of corruption

wc: 1.8k [cross-post to ao3]

notes: hello hello! here’s my piece for the decadence open collab by @sugawara-sweetheart as well as for @chiwhorei!’s heavenly bodies collab! this idea has been living in my head rent-free lol for a while now after an entire discussion about this with @kinsurou in the hqhq basement and now felt like the perfect time to write this one! also, I divided this into 2 parts lmao and yes, thank you so much to @meiansmistress, @vanille--kiss, and @anime-nymph for beta-ing this baby! midas’ touch is real, babyyy

chants: the phantom of the opera - andrew lloyd webber

part 1 | part 2

The gentle wind is cool, nipping and kissing against your exposed skin despite the peaking sunlight straining through the afternoon clouds against your being.

It’s another usual Sunday for you, breathing in the crisp scent of dried leaves from the trees leading up to your destination as you walk all by yourself. Your hands toy with the pleats of your black knee-length skirt on the way to the nearest parish that you started attending ever since you moved here. The small bag strapped to your shoulder threatens to slip down the more you play with your skirt, leaving you to play with your fingers in front of your chest instead.

Good thing I wore a thick blouse for today! you shudder with your thoughts, hugging yourself from the cool gusts of wind brushing against your skin as you hitch your bag back up your shoulder.

“Y/N! Good to see you attending Sunday mass as usual!”

“Father Meian! Yes, of course I wouldn’t miss it!” You beam as you undoubtedly shake the large palm in front of you.

Ever since you landed your dream job as a therapist at the nearby mental health clinic and moved out of your parents’ house, you have been living on your own. Being the product of a strict Catholic upbringing, attending Sunday masses has never left your routine; it is already embedded in your weekly life.

The priest accompanies you inside, fully aware of the innocent hand on the back of your waist while he engages you with small talk, internally smirking with the filthiest of intentions.

She won’t know what’s coming...

You have been attending the Sunday masses for quite some time now, and you have been the apple of Father Shūgo Meian’s eye for a while now too. He has always anticipated your weekly visits, and today was no different as he tries to let his fingers bury nicely into your warm, clothed back.

You met him a while back during one of the parish’s charity drives for the marginalized. You had taken it upon yourself to become more proactive, going as far as becoming one of the main managers of the drive. He knows and likes how dedicated you are in giving back to the community and ever since meeting you, he��s been nothing but a smitten man.

He makes sure to praise your warm heart and tenacity as much as he can, and such tender words make you flush as well as make your trust in the clergyman grow. Seeing him and talking with him always made you feel safe and welcome, and it's those feelings that keep you coming back with a smile every week.

You sigh in sluggishness, body aching from being out all day as you let yourself into the comfort of your apartment before closing and locking the door rather arbitrarily.

Being in the mental health field alone is taxing enough, hence why you don’t have any work on Sundays, but it wasn’t really in your plans to actually meet with your friends and stay out late on Sunday right after a church service.

“Good Lord, I really need some sleep tonight,” you shake your head in mixed utterance, slowly stripping off your clothes piece by piece and tossing them into the small laundry basket sitting half-full beside your bed. The pull of your panties and the unclasping of your bra leaves you breathing more deeply and freely, chest steadily rising and falling as you toss them into the growing heap of the laundry basket.

“Fucking finally,” you sigh in comfort as you plop yourself right onto the solace of your sheets and the fluff of your pillows, drowning yourself in the scent of fresh laundry. You let it wash over you to coax your body and your dulled senses to sleep.

If there’s one thing that Meian is pretty much confident in, it’s being able to climb towering buildings with ease and stealth. The slow deterioration of bricks on the walls, gritting with mold, is no match for his polished, retractable claws.

After all, he’s from the nether depths of damnation himself.

This is gonna be a piece of cake.

Of course it’s nothing to him. Anything in this mundane world is nothing against the reins of divine or evil magic at the flick of his fingertips.

For sure, being the juicy morsel that caught his eye entails him knowing an eerie amount of things about you. For instance, he knows you work an 8 - 5 shift at the nearby mental health clinic, and how much you love your job no matter how much it takes a toll on your own mental health.

But he also knows the details no one else knows about.

He knows and indulges at the fact that you sleep fully naked—fully bare for him and only him without your knowledge.

Oh how shameful is it that not even your own friends know about it.

But he takes advantage of it nonetheless.

As he lands right outside your window, he peeks into the insides of your bedroom, clapping and lurching with despicable delight at the lack of curtains so he can fully feast on your naked, vulnerable figure snoring away, so unaware yet so beautiful. He licks his lips, wetting them at the sight of the peaking buds of your nipples. His thick, clunky fingers become restless in anticipation at the temptation to just break your windows and ravage your alluring nakedness.

With the swipe of black magic at his fingertips, he effortlessly unlocks your seemingly secure window. He swings it open firmly as he retreats his fluttering wingspan onto the broad plane of his back just so he can fit to enter into your humble abode.

As soon as he steps inside, he’s seething—seething and breath hitching at how your body’s all flushed from the humid heat of your bedroom. He loves the messy slew of your hair flowing like a confluence of rivers on your sheets while your limbs are unwittingly open as if they’re welcoming him.

As if you’re welcoming him.

His deft fingers twitch in utter temptation, the urge to wreck your virgin cunt that he's suppressed until now coming at him at full speed. Despite being a creature of inexplicable lust, the furthest thing Meian has ever done to you was occupy a small space in your mind, invading your once innocent thoughts with dark, decadent, vivid images of your pussy clenching around his girthy fingers.

“You look like an angel, my little lamb,” he muses with taunt and irony, stepping in front of your wide legs. He undeniably licks his smirking lips at the sight of your pussy all ready for him to abuse with the power of his fingers. “Can’t wait to break this virgin cunt of yours and corrupt them, my little lamb”.

It feels so hot.

Your tummy feels unbelievably hot—scorching hot while you still try to process everything you’re currently feeling for the umpteenth time around. If it weren’t for the fire fueling in your loins, maybe a good night sleep would be in order.

You shudder in amalgamated pleasure and fear, processing the fact that it’s literally been days since you’ve been haunted by gushes and series of blazing hotness right in your lower belly, waking up the next day with wetness pooling and soaking your sheets wet. It’s not pee, you think, trying not to be disgusted because for sure, you know how to control your bladder. Nevertheless, you become increasingly exhausted at the now dreadful routine of changing the sheets every fucking morning.

You can't tell if it's just your dreams fooling you and becoming too vivid. Or maybe it's your own traitorous fingers, exploring on their own as you sleep, making your body know pleasure.

There’s no time or ability to think, something slender and long deftly entering the wet ring of muscle inside the growing warmth of your cunt. It undeniably stretches you—lips widening at the searing blaze of whatever it is that skillfully spreads your pussy apart, your head and eyes blurring and rolling back from the sheer pleasure.

“Oh… My God—” you mewl out in your head, words stuck at the tip of your tongue. Your limbs are beyond saving grace, too tired to even lift a finger. Your eyes succumb to the growing spots of darkness entering your vision and you finally sink back into the deep, dark waters of unconsciousness.

The demon before you on the other hand basks in corrupted glee, drenched fingers pumping in and out of you as he watches your nose scrunch and brows narrow, drinking in the view of your closed, sleeping eyelids. He religiously massages the soft, sensitive spots in the warm, stretched muscle of your insides, watching you with a smirk as the staccato of your cries and moans leave your once virtuous lips.

“O-Oh God!” He hears you wail once his fingers run over the sinful button of your bundle of nerves, flicking and flitting it as he awaits the explosion of your unreleased, pent-up pleasure. Meian’s torturous laughter turns into a righteous ear-to-ear smirk of victory as your stifled moans turn into a scream fest, your very first orgasm ripping and exploding right through you and dripping right down his fingers. As he watches your sleeping body shake and tremble at your intense climax, his deft fingers leave the sopping muscle and he licks them with the searing warmth of his tongue, tasting every drop of your essence weeping down off his fingers and licking them bone dry.

And all it took for him to slowly wrap you around his fingers and turn you into a hot, sobbing mess was only the girth of his fingers. What if it’s not just his fingers?

His eyes become dark, lidded with purely tainted intentions, pupils dilating at the sweet, pulse-inducing taste of your nectar. “Delectable.”

He massages the growing pulsating of his cock, hardening and straining against the strip of cloth barely hanging and covering his crotch while he gutturally groans in frustration.

Not tonight, he thinks with a plan in mind as a devious smile cracks through his sinful lips, there is a better time for this.

With a frustrated but smoldered anger, he looks at you delectable form one more time, licking his lips still slopped with your juices before he walks over and flies out of your window, with the flutter of his wingspan deliberately closing off your windows with adequate force.

Safe to say, you wake up the following morning, groaning at the sight of drenched sheets, frustrated with having to change the sheets once again.

The groan grows louder when you notice the distilled state of your lady bits and the clear liquid trickling down from it. But this time, warmth and utter pleasure blooms right in your stomach as you caress it with the gentleness of your fingertips, a dazed expression on your face.

“It couldn’t have all been a dream…. Could it?”

taglist: @hqintheclub @meiansmistress @kinsurou @tetsv @rosesandtoshi @anime-nymph @hogwarts--imagines @semisgroupie @kurosukii @bunbyy @wisenerdcreator

✖️ decadence mlist ✖️ heavenly bodies mlist ✖️ my potion rack mlist ✖️

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kurinoot · 3 years

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bargain

-> so what if your father owed a rival mob large sums of money? it’s not like he can’t pay them, right? too bad he bargains something else that you didn’t expect...

pairings: seijoh 4 x reader, oikawa x reader, matsukawa x reader, hanamaki x reader, iwaizumi x reader

themes: mafia au, explicit content, smut, unprotected sex, size kink, overstimulation, mentions of violence, implied drugging, language, basically every chapter will be full of nsfw shit so please read the warnings before reading them. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

notes: this was supposed to be like one chapter only but after every brain storming that I had with @vanille--kiss has turned this into a multi-chaptered mess LMFAO but anyways, this is my contribution for the meian crime family’s mayfia collab! so please also check out the other works from the other amazing writers and artists of the church! mwa! this is also in correlation to momma @vanille--kiss‘ seijoh 4 mayfia art which you can find here!

also, please note that I’m doing this while also juggling wanderlust and online classes LMFAOOOOO so yuh updates will be irregular but drop an ask or message if you wanna be included in the taglist PROVIDED THAT you have your age in your bio hmph

chant: zitti e buoni by maneskin

i. tradimento

↳ seijoh 4

ii. dolce

↳ oikawa tooru

iii. sangue

↳ matsukawa issei

iv. andare

↳ hanamaki takahiro

v. lezioni

↳ iwaizumi hajime

🍷 𝒍𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆

taglist: @vanille--kiss @anime-nymph @kinsurou @hogwarts--imagines @semisgroupie @kurosukii @bunbyy @rosesandtoshi @wisenerdcreator @ysatrap

❌ church of meian collab mlist ❌ mayfia collab mlist ❌ potion rack mlist ❌

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kurinoot · 3 years

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care less more

-> his visits are short and are punctuated by the hectic and taciturn. the only thing the budding musician can associate about you is a rebound and the cold, disheveled sheets, and he plans to keep it exactly that way.

pairing: semi x reader

themes and warnings: smut, angst-ish woohoo, cheating, mentions of rough sex, dacryphilia, fingering if u squint

wc: 1.5k

notes: another wip posted woot woot so this piece is my submission for the church of meian’s songfic-themed tune june collab! this song is heavily inspired by olivia o’ brien’s song entitled ‘care less more’ and I HIGHLY suggest that you play it while reading mwehehe. also, thank you so much to @chibi-chanforever, @latrombone, @oneblonded, and @spacesevyn for beta-ing this baby! also, take note that the ones in quoted bold italic are some of the lyrics in the song!

chant: care less more by olivia o’ brien

The distilled moans and wet sounds of skin slapping against skin reverberate throughout the room in a hasty fashion.

“You receive me so well—ugh” you hear Semi groan as his hips continue ramming into your wet, gummy walls, hands clenching at the crumpled sheets and face scrunching at the growing tight sensation welling up against his pistoning cock. Moans effortlessly and wantonly fall out of your lips and fill his ears like a crisp staccato of notes.

He slams his lips against your quivering ones, muffling any possible sounds as he continues to hit your sweet spots. “Oi, you better keep it down low if we don’t want to be found out.” he growls lowly against your lips before pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth.

It has been months ever since he has begun this rendezvous with you, punctuated by crumpled sheets, unregistered phone numbers, and desperate love making.

Except, there’s no love and no strings attached.

You nod at his bequest, trying to ease and soothe yourself at the incessant onslaught of his cock jamming into your core. You run your fingers against his broad chest, instantly clutching them on the expanse of his broad shoulders brimming with sweat as he continues his intense jutting of his hips against yours.

“S-So good, Eita—”

“We don’t use first names here—ngh—I thought—hng—we made it clear last time.”

“I-I’m sorry—ah!”

His hips sharply stutter against you, going harder and harsher at the prospect of his first name ringing against his eardrums. His muscles become more tense, hands tightly gripping your waist as he accepts your half-hearted apology with a rough snap of his hips. It’s no use to him when he knows that you’ll still cry out at his ministrations, so what’s the point?

Might as well fuck you rough anyway while he still has the time.

His breathing becomes more labored and the sweat in his body began falling like droplets of rain. It is no different for you, eyes welling up with more tears and moans slipping out of your sinful mouth ever so carelessly at the rough feel of his dick ramming inside you.

“S-Semi, I—” you choke on your words as his fluttering pace leaves your senses culminating in intense, hot flashes of white.

“Are you going to cum?”

Your muscles and throat tense at the sudden question right while he’s hot-headedly thrusting into the throes of the wet ring of your walls. He has you all whining, toes curling, and creaming beyond comprehension, sweat-riddled fingers digging themselves further into the threshold of his muscle-clad arms.

“Cum for me.”

“You look at me, you see her face. No, you don't like me; I'm just there to hold her place”

Tears have long since stained your face, mixing with eyeliner and mascara to form emotion-riddled trails streaking down your face, which seep into the pillows underneath you, painting you into an inkblot masterpiece

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groans, sharp pupils burning as they fall upon your wide, quivering ones. You’re not stupid; you understand the intentions behind his words, eagerly nodding at his comment.

You mean her? you reply knowingly in the back of your head and accentuating ‘her’ all intentionally, knowing that you’re just a look-alike that he’d willingly fuck in place of his complacent girlfriend. But you shrug it all off because as much as you hate being a placeholder, you can’t help but be content to have this clandestine rendezvous with him. Nevertheless, butterflies violently rattle against your insides at his double-edged words.

“Hope I distract you enough from the girl that you love 'cause I've been doing the same, you're just a boy that I 'ah'”

You’re not clueless to know and understand that he will never see you in a spotlight beyond the platonic boundary, if you can even call this relationship a platonic one. Sure, you already knew what you were getting yourself into, but the sting and longing in your heart only grows more and more as he continues to use you as nothing but a hole to fuck with when he’s bored and unsatisfied with the woman that he treasures and claims is all his.

You can then feel the tips of his fingers as they explore along the side of your waist and then dig further into the deep recesses of your cunt, adding fuel to the fire as he strums and presses along the swollen nub of your bundle of nerves while he continues to push his dick into you.

“Please, please, please,” you whine in desperation, followed by strings of incoherent babbles as your calves tense and clench, ensnaring his hips tighter and closer into yours and probing his cock to inch way deeper into unexplored territory than last time.

Call reality a bitch whenever you want, but this is miles better than only being another fan lost in the sprawling ocean of other fans.

You can’t have him as your other half? Be a VIP Semi Eita cockwarmer then.

Poor girlfriend having no knowledge that he’s drilling another hole besides hers, you lament in your thoughts as he continues drilling into your wet cavern.

“So close!”

He further cements his grip on you, calloused and nimble fingers letting go of your clit as his hips snap erratically, feeling the growing crest of the wave inching him closer to nirvana.

“G-Gonna fucking cum—holy fuck—cumming!” you scream out, the growing wave of your climax nearing its zenith.

“Good. Then fucking do it.”

With the last snap of his hips finally probing your deepest spots, your fingers dig into his steady arms right as he stutters his hips, plunging into you a few more times before you feel the warmth of his cum bleeding through the latex. A stifled, guttural groan twitches out of his throat, with knuckles turning white as his hands clench the sheets tightly from the climax bursting out of the seams of his groin. You break right at his clutch, gushing right against his twitching cock as your entire being becomes sore and flaring in heat afterwards.

Labored breathing and panting envelops the entire room, the smell of sex and sweat emanating from both of you altogether as his head dips right in the crook of your neck in exhaustion. His breath tickling against your sweat-matted skin only leaves you trembling more as your toes curl and your fingers numbly grasp the sheets tightly, hushed whimpers leaving your sore, dry lips.

He stills in for a couple of minutes, hips still stuttering to let his climax subside bit by bit while he tries to regain some energy before he pulls out of your warmth. Your cum continues to gush out of your pussy, the wet ring of muscle still twitching at the loss of contact.

“Why you wasting all of your time laying next to me? If you really wanted it so bad it's where you'd be”

“This never happened.”

His voice, albeit tired, says it firmly, his words empty and emotionless, like he always does after every meeting that you have with him. You wearily nod at his words, uttering a cold “Of course. No biggie,” right before you let yourself drown in the comfort of the thick pillow lying beneath your head and the thin sheets enveloping your body.

Of course you know very well how this entire rendezvous can overthrow his career as a musician if you’re not careful enough. Heck, his entire career and image will be in shambles once even a single speck of mistake exposes him and his illicit affairs with you.

He rests for a couple more minutes, breathing slowly steadying back to normal before you hear him ruffle through the sheets. Your head’s all buried in the comfort of the make-up stained pillow, but you can ascertain that he’s already preparing to leave, judging by the sound of his belt clicking back and the once heap of clothes finding its way back to his tall, unabashed figure.

“Why you wasting all of your time busy texting me? If you don't want what's best for me”

The familiar ringtone of your phone beside you flashes right before your eyes. Your hand flimsily picks up your phone just as you hear the door open and close subsequently with considerable force as you read the message softly.

Semi <3: I’ll text you the next schedule :) and try to be less noisy next time.

You can only laugh dryly at his usual message, the growing crack in your heart only reverberating further as you choke at the oncoming onslaught of tears running through your face once again, but for an entirely different reason. Your chest heaves heavily, breathing in mouthfuls of air in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You swallow the lump in your throat, more tears inching away from your swollen, make-up stained eyes as you realize that you willingly let him into your personal life and then realize further that he’s way beyond bone-deep in you. You reluctantly open his message, numb fingers typing a reply trying to ease the hole in your heart.

You: okay :)

As soon as your thumb hits send, your hand languidly places the phone right back beneath your pillow as your tears finally broke through the dilapidated state of your emotions

You could care less but it was already obvious that you care a lot more than what is expected as you cry out every bit of frustrations into the cold, love-devoid sheets.

taglist (answer this form if you want to be included!): @hqintheclub @kinsurou @rosesandtoshi @anime-nymph @hogwarts--imagines @semisgroupie @kurosukii @bunbyy @wisenerdcreator @hismilkbread @bucinhajime

✖ tune june collab mlist ✖ church of meian collab mlist ✖ my potion rack mlist ✖

#witchy.writes #hqintheclub #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #semi x reader #semi smut #haikyuu fics #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #church of meian #tune june #care less more #tw // cheating

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kurinoot · 3 years

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agape

-> agape (Ancient Greek ἀγάπη, agapē) is a Greco-Christian term referring to unconditional love, "the highest form of love, charity" and "the love of God for man and of man for God".

pairing: akaashi x gn!reader

themes: fluff with some angst at the beginning, akaashi just taking care of you, bipolar!reader (that’s why please read this fic with discretion), post-timeskip

word count: 1,310 words

trigger warning/s: mentions of mental health-related issues! if you want to talk about it or just want someone to vent out, you can slide into my dms! also, warning for language!

notes: so hello! this is my contribution for the mental health collab, and I chose akaashi! I hope that you have read this top portion before reading the fic just to give you a heads up! anyways, this is to raise awareness on mental health in general (and on bipolar disorder) and to help others who don’t have mental health issues and of course, destigmatize them! a HUGE appreciation to @rosesandtoshi, @nerdynstoned, @vanille--kiss, @meiansmistress, and to my love @ssrated1volleyballplayer 💕 for proofreading this and fact-checking it for me! I really appreciate it considering the subject of this fic :)

chant: all of me - john legend (lindsey stirling violin remix)

“This sucks,” you softly whine in frustration as you fold your arms and lay down your head on the table. Your boyfriend can only look at you in worry as he tenderly caresses your hair, humming a soft lullaby that he knows can help you ease down from your episodes at times.

You huff in frustration at literally everything—the intense shifts in mood swings, medications, therapy sessions, the pitying or judging looks, and the stigma—as tears well up and threaten to spill from the growing swell on your eyes. You just want to live a normal life—a life without unpredictable mood swings, daily medications, and therapy appointments.

And a life where you don’t have to feel every inch of ogling eyes staring right at you.

A life just like everybody else.

And yet here you are.

You never fail to feel envious of almost everybody else. At least they don’t need to take medications every single fucking day just to keep their mood in check. They also don’t need to attend psychotherapy sessions because of something that would stay with them for life. And they don’t have to suffer the stares of other people just because they’re having a fucking meltdown.

“Shh,” he hushes softly. “It’s okay, I’m here if you need me, my love.” Keiji coos with tenderness.

The last week at work has left you in shambles, as an unpredictable depressive episode made its wave to disrupt your routine once again. You were grateful that your boss understood your situation and gave you a time off work, but it has still left you grating with so many thoughts drilling its way into your head. It didn’t help that you were still in a depressive episode today, and it definitely didn’t help that you want to cry at your boyfriend's comforting words and overwhelming support. You can only muffle your cries at the fact that you are so goddamn lucky to have a doting boyfriend like Keiji.

‘What the fuck did I ever do to deserve Keiji? I really don’t deserve him. Not like this,’ your mind slews, overwhelmed with all the negativity you’re feeling. Ever since finding out about the state of your psyche, he’s been nothing short of a very patient and compassionate boyfriend, and once again he proves to you how much he loves you even in your current state.

“It’s okay, my love. Cry your heart out if you have to, my love. I’m here.” You hear his calm voice as he wraps you in a cozy hug beside you, accompanied with a light but meaningful kiss on your temple as you bask together in the silence in solace. After a few minutes, Akaashi goes to check on you only for him to hear the wisps of your soft snores. Only then does he proceed to carry you with all his might and carefully place you on the bed, covering you with your favorite bamboo-scented white comforter that never fails to calm you down in your sleep.

As soon as he’s assured that you’re resting soundly, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, hastily unlocking it. He’s greeted with a photo of you on his screen and he lets out a smile, saying a ‘That’s my girl’ in his head as he opens his browser and types ‘bipolar disorder’ on the search bar.

“So that’s what it is...” Akaashi mumbles in understanding as he scrolls through various credible sources about your condition, wanting to keep himself educated to learn more about you and how to take good care of you. From what he can understand, you experience mood extremes - manic and depressive episodes which can tick off of you at random and unexpected times. It is something incurable, he reads, but taking prescriptions as well as psychotherapy can help reduce its effects.

‘So that’s why Y/N takes her prescriptions everyday...’ he realizes as he clearly recalls the day he found your prescription medications in one of the cupboards.

He searches more about it, adding more and more tabs on his browser when he glances at the clock, only to be greeted with the flashing LED that says 2:58 AM. With a huff, he closes his phone, settling it on the nightstand before he uncovers the sheets and plops down beside you, ensnaring you in a warm embrace as he dozes off into unconsciousness.

A couple of hours later, Akaashi wakes up to the sound of his alarm. He rubs both of his eyes, yawning before his hand goes to turn off the blaring sound to make sure that you don’t wake up. He gives you one last hug, then kisses your temple, cheek, and shoulder before unwrapping himself from the warmth of the sheets you share together.

‘I still have time.’ Akaashi huffs in mind, glancing at the clock that glared right at him at 6:32 AM. He rushes over to the bathroom to clean himself up before he goes to the kitchen to prepare something for you.

The mixed scent of the bamboo from the comforter and the scent of what seemed to be tamagoyaki—your favorite egg omelette rolls—wakes you up and you jolt awake to see the empty space next to you. You frown only to realize that Keiji must be preparing breakfast as your stomach grumbles from hunger. Not for long, Keiji graces your dazed vision as he carries a bed tray with a steaming plate of your favorite egg omelette roll, a bowl of miso soup, and a freshly brewed cup of tea on the side. The icing on the cake, much to your shock, is the bottle of prescription medication placed neatly near the cup of tea with an attached note that said “Don’t forget!”

“Good morning, Y/N. I hope you’re feeling good,” he greets you calmly with a gentle beam, leaving a peck on your forehead.

“Keiji~” you huff out with a slight pout as he places the bed tray on your lap. “You didn’t have to do this for me.”

Akaashi rubs your hands with his, looking into your eyes with love before he takes one of your hands and places a tender kiss on it. “You had a rough week and must be exhausted, so let me do this for you. I’m here for you, okay?”

Your eyes widen at his words and his gestures as your eyes unconsciously become wet with tears. ‘Why is Keiji so good to me? I don’t deserve this I can’t—’

Akaashi must have sensed it, because he wraps you in a comforting hug. Your heart feels like it is going to burst as you hug him in return, crying with full force. It doesn’t help that he is caressing your hair gently with one hand while he rubs your back with the other.

“Shhh. I’m here, my love. Tell me how you are feeling.”

He patiently waits for you as you swallow all the incoming tears and the growing lump in your throat before a smile graces your lips. “I-I just, I don’t know. I feel so loved right now.”

Akaashi smiles, giving himself a pat on the back internally as he hugs you a little bit tighter. You both bask in each other’s warmth and comfort.

“Now come on, let’s eat. The food will get cold. I’ll grab my own food so we can eat breakfast together. The next time you have a therapy appointment, if you’re comfortable, I would like to accompany you. That way, I can understand you better and do my best to accommodate your needs. Only if that is something you’re alright with though.”

The fact that he was so willing to try and see things from your perspective meant everything to you. All that you could do in that moment was cry a little bit harder as he holds you.

remember to keep yourself educated, sisters! destigmatizing mental health is more important than ever! and being sensitive and caring to those who deal with those problems is what those people need :)

back to the mental health collab masterlist (yet to be posted)

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #hqhq server #mental health collab #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #agape #haikyuu fics #haikyuu imagines #haikyuucafe #witchy.writes #tw // mental health #tw // bipolar disorder

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