“GONNA SHOW HIM YOU’RE MINE.”

Menhera isn’t “scars make me cute.”

Menhera isn’t “wounds are aesthetic.”

It’s more “I can be cute, even if I have scars.”

It’s more “I can cute, even if I’m emotionally damaged.”

Please stop romanticizing self harm and mental illness! That isn’t what menhera is about and a lot of people still get it confused. Menhera is about internal struggle.

If you think a post on my blog might be leaning towards romanticizing harm or illness please inform me and I’ll take it down

miya atsumu x f!reader

tags: con noncon, anal, public bathroom, degradation, dacryphilia

you know that atsumu always demands absolute silence for his serves. you know it, but it’s also been a while since he’s been rough with you, and you crave it. so you muster up all your courage and scream his name just after he commands the room. you know instantly that he recognizes your voice, but he doesn’t even look at you, and you watch as he hits one of the most intense jump serves you’ve ever seen. 

atsumu finds you as soon as he exits the locker rooms and without a word pull’s you into the men’s washrooms. he glares at the man washing his hands, who scrambles off, and pushes you into the stall.

“yer a fuckin’ pig, y’know?” he hisses, holding your upper arm with bruising force.

you whimper, “tsumu—”

“shut yer mouth,” he spins you around, bending you over the filthy toilet, “ya really pissed me off this time, y/n.”

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— 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐢𝐢𝐢.

heartbroken! darling . . who spends hours in her soft bed trying to get herself off — mind pacing back and forth to her ex boyfriend suna rintarou.

heartbroken! darling . . who hates herself for being reminded of how well his fingers worked her little cunt, and how well he fucked with his pretty dick.

heartbroken! darling . . who’s fussing, tossing and turning and huffing into her plush pillow until the soft of her upper arm accidently presses on the contact of her ex, ringing suna’s line.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who’s eyes widen when he sees your contact name pop up — still set as ‘sweet girl’ with no intent to change it. who takes a bit of time to answer, so it doesn’t seem like he cares too much.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who presses the green button with shaky fingers, parting his lips to speak before he hears a familiar meek moan.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who’s cock begins to stiffen at the soft, whiny moans elicited through the speaker of the phone — clearly you’ve misclicked his contact. he knows the moral thing to do would be to hang up, but . .

heartbroken! darling . . who subconsciously whines out her ex boyfriends name slurred with a soft moan, chanting the syllables over and over with occasional ‘ . . miss you . . ‘ and ‘ love you ‘s . . ‘

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who can hear your sloppy pussy over the poor speaker of the phones, and your soft rumbling in the sheets. who’s listening so intently that he starts to imagine your pussy crying out his name too.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“r—rinnn . . miss y’ so much ,”

he knows — knows you’re renacting the nights where you two had to resort to phone sex, due to him being heftily busy or out of town. he’s well used to your whining and the scramble of the sheets against the phones speaker, having resorted to phone sex as a way to push off the true issue — he was never home.

“‘m sorry,” you ramble, “sorry f’being so mean . . miss y’ so much. miss your face ‘nd . . fingers and y’r cock—“ you hiccup.

you muffle your voice into your pillow, free arm wrapping under the the cushion for leverage. “rin,” you moan. “l—love you.”

your breath fastens when you feel your climax following, little thumb pressing against your sensitive clit just as suna taught you. “feels good! r—rinnn,” you cry, eyes shut tight with the vivid imagination of your now ex boyfriend behind you, helping you get off.

his sultry voice and featherlight touches transverse your thoughts, soft cries being elicited from your swollen lips and drool dirtying your pillow. you ignore the loud squelches of your pussy, or how you’re dirtying your hand and the sheets below, pumping in and out of your swollen cunt with no other desire but to cum.

you yelp, jump up in terror when you hear a loud masculine sigh and low shlicks, eyes searching the room for the source of noise. you lift your blanket with intentions to slip inside . .

revealing your phone. on an active call with your ex boyfriend named, ‘sweet boy.’ no, you hadn’t changed his contact either. the time of the call displays ‘12:38.’ a hot flash spreads throughout your body,

“r—rin?”

“y—yeah.”

“you . . you didn’t hear anything right?”

it’s so deathly silent, you could hear a pin drop.

“you really miss me that much, doll?” suna chuckles, breaking the silence with a short hum.

“no . . du—dunno what you’re talking about. i—i called on accident so ‘m gonna—“

“don’t be like that baby, don’t hang up. let me come over, yeah?”

“rin—“ you protest,

“oh? we’re not moanin’ anymore? i see . . “

“shut up, suna!” you cry out, defeated and forcibly facing the fact that you had just fucked yourself to the thought of your ex boyfriend — and he heard everything.

“c’mon. let me come over t’night and show you just how much i missed you, too. alright?”

he’s eager when you don’t protest, only a heavy huff before the line cuts off. he’s quick to messily tug up his sweats, rinse off his hand, and reach for keys.

haikyuu boys as tweets

ft. oikawa tooru, lev haiba, tsukishima kei, iwaizumi hajime, bokuto koutaro, miya atsumu, kageyama tobio, tendou satori, & asahi azumane

masterlist | navigation | part two

why did i do this? who knows 😎👍💗 enjoy some of my favorite tweets

bokuto being really sensitive during blowjobs and he jerks up into your mouth making you gAG and he feels really bad about it - but its so good so hes just apologizing while fucking your face

hnnnnh;

— throat fucking + hurt/comfort + spit + mentions of pain + minor cum play + gn! reader

you didn’t mean to- he’s sensitive and you know that, but the single sweep- just a swipe of the tip of your tongue over the ridge of skin right below his swollen and almost purpling head of his cock makes him see stars.

his hands instinctively shoot down and grab your hair, grabs your head with heated and shaky fingers- gasping as a loud moan leaves his throat-

“oh!” he grumbles, tossing his head back, “feels good!”

bokuto is weak, weak to your sinful mouth and consequently bucks up into it- clenching tummy seizing up as he feels you gag, there’s a tiny part of him that enjoys how you sound right now, but with an open mouth; he apologizes reverently.

“sorry... fuck i’m so sorry angel.”

and while he is, truly is, he can’t help the quick thrusting he gives you, feeling you jerk, feeling strings of warm spit trickle out of your mouth.

your fingers dig into the muscle of his thighs so hard there’s surely going to be welts tomorrow. it’s lewd- the sound of his fat cock splitting your mouth open and his heavy fat balls also slapping up, knocking into your chin.

he can hear and fucking feel the surprised whimpers that leave you, he’s taken liberty in using your face to cum- youre nearly limp inbetween his palms and he can’t help it. he knows his cock is fat- knows he should be more gentle but he likes the way your seizing, clenching throat feels around him.

there’s words of apology just tumbling from his lips, but you can’t hear over the rush of blood to your face- trying your hardest not to pass out in a moment like this, you wanted to comfort him- but couldn’t.

“sorry. i’m so sorry.” bokuto pants, lost in it all- his golden eyes are wide, roaming the ceiling before he looks down at you- pinched eyebrows, tears rolling down your face, tresses of your hair caught between his fingers, spit bubbles foaming in the corners of your poor lips.

it does him in, quickening his shallow breathing as he tenses up, bringing your head down- nose smushing against his pubes as he cums hotly, swelling in your mouth, cuming so violently thanks to you- that it seeps up and past the clenching of your throat, costing his cock and smearing out at the base of where your lips end and his pubes begin.

once he’s done, and calmed down, brought back to earth- he gently takes his softening cock out of your mouth, letting you sputter, hand coming down to pat your back, another wiping tears away.

“sorry baby, my angel- i’m so sorry.” koutarou coos, but with the glazed look you give him; he knows it’s okay, knows because you smile, cum and spit stained lips stretching out into a shaky smile and nod, a silent dismissal of his worries.

you loved being used like this.

this broke my heart 😭 can i please be added to the taglist? ty!! 💗

Chapter 3

sypnosis: you and your boyfriend, Bokuto had a fight the day before the training camp in Tokyo and it was all because of a girl carrying rumors that left the both of you in bad terms. Will the ace and the manager immediately resolve this issue, or will they keep it that way until for who knows when?

✦ genre: angst, fluff

✦ word count: 3.7k

✦ warnings: reader’s heartbreak

»»— masterlist | previous (ch.2) | next (ch. 3.5)

chapter 2…

Bokuto released a deep sigh, blaming himself for every stupid thing he’s done to you. “I fucking hate myself.” He holds his hips as he scrunched his eyebrows in distress. You would always laugh at his craziness and he’d even do it deliberately if it makes you happy. Out of each of them, this could be the stupidest and the saddest one yet.

“You reap what you sow.” Aiko stated and grabs her phone to check the time. “And you better get ready for tomorrow.”

That’s enough scolding for someone who already admits their fault.

He pouts, his eyes full of hope. “Is y/n-chan going to be there?”

“She’s not coming.”

DAY ONE: Training Camp

The night breaks into dawn. It was serene and the weather was perfect for the start of the training camp. People are snuggled into bed, still in slumber, and yet the volleyball clubs from different schools are already on their way to spend the week fortifying themselves.

Coach Yamiji speaks entirely of pure motivation to keep Fukurodani at their greatest forms. He had always encouraged them right before they showcase their willpower on the court.

However, the coach’s word doesn’t seem to be effective on the ace. All of them are steeled except for him. Bokuto stands beside his teammates, in a deep trance. He was unusually quiet for some reason, and it concerned the whole volleyball club.

Also, it was too early for him to be in his emo mode. Unless something or someone had provoked him to be that way.

But this wasn’t his typical emo mode either.

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seijoh x f!reader

request: fem!reader is at a Halloween party and is dressed up as a cat, complete with a collar and a tag that says ‘your name here.’ she’s knocking back drinks and flirting with Oikawa and Iwa, when Oikawa takes her upstairs, all of the Seijoh 3rd years coat her. tags: dubcon, alcohol, facials

“get on your back, baby,” oikawa commands, and your world tilts as you drunkenly topple onto the floor, rolling around happily as you look up at your two favourite men.

“pretty, aren’t you?” iwaizumi chuckles, watching your flushed face from his position above you.

you nod dazedly, smiling brightly at them. in your stupor you start to undo the ties at the front of your shirt, exposing your breasts. you giggle when you see the bulge in their pants, the hunger in their eyes. you suck your finger into your mouth.

“you can come in now, guys,” oikawa suddenly says, and you realize he’s not talking to you.

your eyes are heavy, but you manage to lift them enough to see matsukawa and hanamaki walk into the room. they glance at you, and instead of greeting you, they smirk at oikawa and iwaizumi.

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Franz Kafka, The Diaries of Franz Kafka