Tune In To Forty, Love Part 3 If You Want Some Real Drama Bc My God Is It Getting Messy

tune in to forty, love part 3 if you want some real drama 😭🙏 bc my god is it getting messy

idk what i wish i could try more, the olympic village chocolate muffin or an onigiri miya onigiri ☹️

i’m going to have an episode

KITA GETTING TO SAY IT 😫

THE FIT GOES HARD 🔥🔥🔥🔥

boxers / timeskip!miya atsumu x reader

genre(s) - slice of life??? friends with endless romantic/sexual tension between them, mutually oblivious pining up until the end, atsumu being a little BITCH :/, reader is so hot btw im saying it now you guys are so hot, hotter than the little BITCH atsumu (ngl i do fw his ass tho...)

warning(s) - suggestive but not nsfw!! atsumu being FUCKING ANNOYING, tiger balm if you get it you get it, and like crude humour which is just my branding atp sooo

wc: 1039

tldr; if you're going to make atsumu fulfil your fashion dreams, you better at least look good, which shouldn't be a problem if the only person judging is atsumu himself.

author's note 1: a man who yearns is a man who earns ;) and sometimes a girl just wants to write yearning men to escape from finals so

"'Tsumu, how does it look?"

You reveal your completely renewed, upgraded, rejuvenated outfit, with Atsumu's boxers peeking through the top of your jeans loosely. Perfect, down to the minute details. Once again, you had graced Atsumu's apartment in the middle of the night, for some redundant reason. Last time, it was to take his carton of eggs. This time, it was to borrow a pair of his boxers, of all things.

"It looks cool. Are we done now?" It looks better than cool, much more than cool encompasses. His favourite pair of boxers (definitely a coincidence) sits lopsided across your waist, your jeans holding them in place. The tie sits around your neck, trailing down your torso atop the half-buttoned, collared shirt. You look much better than cool. You look hot, and that is a problem. So much of a problem that Atsumu is resisting the urge to run up and press both hands against your waist, even tug at the waistband of his boxers. You know, just to adjust them. Like best friends do.

You shake your head boldly, contemplating whether you should drop the idea. But alas, you've come this far, even managing to secure a pair of his boxers. It's all or nothing for your fashion discovery now. You stare back at Atsumu, eyeing him up and down as your heart pounds and you consider your next words very carefully. A confused look greets his face, the same one he's made ever since he was in high school. The look that he makes at you when you offer to visit him and rub tiger balm into his shoulders in the middle of the night, or agree to go to all his volleyball games every single time, no matter the day.

"Can you kiss the collar?"

And that just about does it for Atsumu's fragile constraint. His face flushes instantaneously, a hand shooting up to rub across his mouth, before travelling behind his neck to massage it. You wait for a response, your clasped hands becoming clammier with every stagnant second that passes. A stick of red lip stain sits in your back pocket, all you need now is his green light. The air of his living room becomes a pool of slick oil, impossibly heavy, suffocating.

"Yeah, sure."

Your mind blanks. He was not supposed to say yes. You wanted him to, yes, that did not mean that he should have. However, it is too late to regret your proposition now, as you pull the lip stain from your back pocket and approach him on the couch. He winces at the colour, and your hand reaches to cradle his face, angling it just enough to apply the red all over his lips.

"So glamorous, Atsumu, you should be thanking me."

"Shut up, annoying," you manage to scarcely make out from his attempt to speak without moving his lips. He means that out of love, considering he used to call you annoying for actually showing up to his house to massage his shoulders after each match, nagging at you to get rest and leave his soreness be. All out of love between best friends, you're sure of it.

You let go, giving him free reign of your shirt. He looks up at you, pointing at the pointed collar, and you nod in approval. Risque, exactly what you intend to emulate. Shaking, he grabs ahold of your shirt, pressing a firm kiss into the fabric. You smell of the perfume he bought you in celebration of MSBY's first win. Oakwood, orange peel, vanilla. Of course, it was just returning your favour of offering to visit him in the middle of the night, and massage tiger balm into his shoulder blades for two hours.

He pulls away, taking a look at the shirt. Judging by your peculiar choices of a tie, boxers, and a half-buttoned shirt, this is far from risque enough for your liking. He tugs at your top again, peppering kisses across the hem, and you swear you are ready to drop dead right then and there. Not that he's never kissed you before, eight years of friendship does lead to his occasional kisses on your cheek at parties when the two of you would end up drunk off shitty mixers, or your affectionate kisses at the top of his head after match losses as he sits against changing room lockers. All a part of being best friends with Atsumu Miya. Yet as he continues his assault on your shirt, hands grabbing at the fabric tightly and hair tickling the skin of your neck, for the briefest of moments, you wish that he would bring the kisses up instead of across. Fleeting thoughts, pay no mind.

He stops, looking up at you. The lipstick is smudged across one side of his cheek now, and it takes everything in you not to grab his face, and kiss it off of him. His eyes flicker from your face, to your collar.

"Is this enough?" More than enough. You grab his face anyways, rubbing your thumb across the right side of his cheek with a click of your tongue. What a pity that your lipstick isn't ending up on you instead.

"You know, you look really good right now." You babble out before you can catch yourself, and Atsumu's eyes return to your face, boring holes into your eyes. You release his face, a knot forming in your throat as you register your sudden confession. Atsumu breathes out a chuckle, glancing and tugging at your collar.

"I did a pretty good job too, it's a shame I want it off."

He returns to your face, colour matching his red boxers, and your maroon tie, and finally fulfils your wishes as he brings his kisses upwards to your mouth. The remaining lipstick smudges around your lips as you hold his face, body positioned between his legs and your knee pressing onto the sofa. His arms fall back to prop his body up on the couch, surrending all control to your will. You pull away from him, and he almost sulks at the separation. God, he looks so fucking pathetic, staring up at you as if you're the subject of his waking dreams. He should definitely keep this going.

"Stay over tonight? Please?" He mumbles, nestling his face into your palm the way a cat does to its owner.

"Yeah...yeah, I'd like that."

author's note 2:

head empty, no thoughts, just mike faist in challengers, kissed collar shirts, and yearning men. Sometimes a girl just needs to listen to some 5sos and write about looking pretty in someone's boxers and lipstick stains :) Last happy fic I'll write for now, we're going back to giant bittersweet fics next time, might need to try some other characters from diff animes though...

also! this is a total change of style in how i usually write, i wasn't feeling particularly inspired, just wanted to rot and write to kill time, hopefully it's not too bad because it's definitely not my best work imo mmmmm :/

anyways tags!!

@starlysama @chuuya-brainrot @bailey-reeds @fiannee

ok im gonna go now love u bye bye kids

AAH thank you sm lovely!! 🫶🫶🫶

  matamis ᵕ̈        filipino hc!timeskip!boyfie!        iwaizumi hajime x gn (filo?)reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : sharing halo halo   ⋮⋮  on a hot summer day with haji

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 🥛     ♡ # 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 - 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘱     ♡ # ~1𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴     ♡ # 𝘤𝘸 : 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘫𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳     ( + 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰 ! ) ( 𝘵𝘣𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳     𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘰 ,     𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 )

🧸 directory ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ ( title translates to ‘ sweetness ’ 🤭 ) this is utterly and wholly self serving rahhhh !!! gonna be so honest i don ’ t speak the best tagalog ( my lolo and lola never taught me sigh ) so pls politely correct me if anything ’ s wrong ! <<33 ”

“sandali,” (wait a minute) iwaizumi used his spoon straw to push yours out from the bowl of halo halo as you were using the straw end, leaving you idiotically sucking on air through the straw before you completely registered what was happening.

you take your mouth of the straw and lightly hit him on the wrist as you whine, "bakit?" (why?)

a deep chuckle leaves his chest as he takes the spoon end of his utensil and starts stabbing the contents of the bowl, "babe, we haven't even mixed it yet-"

"i was taste testing it!" you argued back. all iwaizumi did in response was shake his head and click his tongue, continuing to mix up the bowl.

"you're always so particular about how we eat this," you huff, yet gave in and started helping him break up the toppings into the shaved ice dessert.

it was a hot summer day (arguably the best kind of day to eat halo halo), and you and iwaizumi decided to visit one of your favorite hole-in-the-wall destinations in the city. the owners were immigrants from the philippines, explaining why the resturaunt served the best filo food you've found in japan to date.

best of all, however, was that each summer the small restaurant brought back halo halo to their menu. and their halo halo had everything! what you and iwaizumi loved was that they didn't skimp on all the classic toppings–creamy ube ice cream, rich ube hilaya (jam), gulaman (gelatin), jackfruit, banana, and even crunchy corn flakes to finish it all off.

though your boyfriend's occupation as an athletic trainer meant he closely watched what he ate for the sake of being "healthy"... he could never deny getting a nostalgic taste of his childhood favorite whenever you suggested it during the summer months.

today–even though the owners had about four fans going in the room–it was so hot that the dessert was already starting to melt. getting impatient, you take a spoonful and quickly bring it to your mouth to avoid the evaporated milk from dripping on the establishment's table. (the sugar from the dessert is bound to leave the table sticky if any gets on it, and you wouldn't want to do that to the sweet lola (old lady) and lolo (old man) who ran the place.)

"hey! i wasn't done yet," iwaizumi protests, "you're gonna miss getting all the flavors in one bite, that's the point-"

you hold up a finger to shush him, closing your eyes savoring the taste you haven't had in months. he shuts up and lets you have your moment, but you notice a noticeable lack of clinking–almost as if your boyfriend isn't continuing on his usual halo-halo-eating ritual.

you crack one eye open to see him staring at you. not in a creepy way, but with a soft smile on his face. he had the look of admiration in his eyes... or maybe that was his sweat, you don't know. you open your other eye and tilt your head at him, amused.

"ano?" (what?) you tease, nudging his leg under the table with your foot, "haji, the halo halo's gonna melt, why aren't you eating?–"

"sarap?" (good?) he suddenly asks.

you go to reply "duh" but you're already eating another spoonful of halo halo so it just comes out in a hum, "mmrmh!"

he aimlessly digs his spoon into the dessert bowl a few more times, "y'know, i might just have to let you finish the whole thing-"

"HM? no way, we always share!" you go to prepare a spoonful with as many of the toppings as you can–the way you know he likes it–and hold it up to his face, your other hand underneath to prevent any from dripping on the table, "plus we already paid!"

like a toddler, he turns his face away, still glancing between the spoon and you, an annoying grin on his face.

"... sige!" (go on!) you were not about to let this bowl of heaven go to waste.

he guides your hand holding the spoon back to the bowl and nonchalantly shrugs, "i don't know why i always let you trick me into coming here, the amount of sugar in this is really bad for you-"

you groan at his health-talk, "but since when have you cared about that? it's lola and lolo's halo halo! it doesn't count."

then he laughs...

he's messing with you. now you can tell.

you don't know what he's trying to get at, but despite your frustration, you can't help but laugh a little with him (while eating that spoonful of halo halo for yourself, of course) because his eyes crinkle up as he smiles. the sound of his laugh makes you feel warm inside and you hope that by swallowing down another spoonful of frozen dessert your insides can cool down a bit from the sensation.

"yeah, well..." he starts, running a hand through his short hair, "also i think i could watch you finish this whole thing and i'd be satisfied."

"ano ba? (what the heck?) what are you even saying? did you get heatstroke?" you question before using the straw end of your utensil to sip some of the refreshing concoction in between you two. how could staring at you be better than eating halo halo? on a hot-ass day like this? you fear your boyfriend's gone mad from the heat.

almost as if he can hear your thoughts, he continues, "you look so happy every time you take a bite, you know that?"

you pause sipping from your straw, taken aback by the sudden comment.

he doesn't hesitate to add on, "sobrang ganda mo" (you're so pretty).

that's when you feel heat creep up onto your face, and hastily take another long sip from the cool halo halo, "d-don't be corny."

"i guess it's the nostalgia."

"you haven't even taken your first bite yet, you haven't even tasted-"

"mahal kita." (i love you)

"...... mahal din kita– kain na!" (i love you too– now eat!)

from that, he finally takes a bite of his own, and it's your turn to admire the lovely man that you somehow have the honor to have in your life.

everytime i see timeskip tanaka i go “that should be me 😞”

takeout dinner w/ kiyoko | wc: 344 m.list

    your legs tangle with hers, the couch far too small for the two of you. taking another bite of ramen, you look over at kiyoko, eyes glazed over from the littlest bit of wine, "okay, okay, truth or dare."

  she looks back at you, knee just barely digging into your thigh. her gaze lands on you, sending a flurry of emotions through your head. your heart nearly skipping a beat until you remind yourself that she's tipsy. that that look is purely there from the wine that rests on the table. "truth, i don't trust you with a dare," kiyoko leans her head against the back of the couch.

  "oh come on ki! i can be trusted with dare.." you take another bite of your ramen, foot brushing against her side, chills running down her legs, "but for truth... what's the thing you look out for most in a partner?" 

  kiyoko looks over at you and purses her lips, a slight smile sneaking through. taking in a deep breath, she sets her fork into her bowl, setting it on the nearby coffee table. "well, i tend to like partners who are comfortable to be around me, even in pajamas and with takeout," she sits up, shin pushing against the side of your thigh.

  taking another bite, you move your fork in a nodding movement, "i totally understand that, it's so nice to have someone who loves you unconditionally."

  "yeah it is..." she sighs, grabbing her wine and taking a sip, eyes staying on yours.

  you look back up at her as her gaze stays on yours. and as soon as you do, you realize you’re staring at the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen in your life. she’s sitting there, leaning forward against her knees, and her shoulder length hair is framing her face perfectly. and almost like a primal instinct, you realize that she’s talking about you.

  “oh- oh,” you look over at her, watching as she bites her lip, smiling at your response, “let me set down my takeout, oh my gosh i wanna kiss you so bad.”