olderbf!nanami who never rushes you, no matter how impatient you get. you’re standing in front of your closet, frustrated, pulling out dresses and tossing them onto the bed.
"i have nothing to wear," you groan. he’s sitting in the armchair by the window, his tie already loosened, watching you with that calm, steady gaze.
"we have forty-five minutes," he says, his voice low and even. "take your time."
you huff, turning to face him. "you’re always so patient. it’s annoying."
he smiles, small and fond. "i’ve waited forty years to find you. i can wait forty-five minutes for you to pick a dress."
olderbf!nanami who always makes sure you eat before you leave the house. you’re running late, your heels clicking on the kitchen floor as you grab your purse.
"we’re going to be late," you say, already halfway to the door.
he steps in front of you, a plate in his hand—toast with avocado, a soft-boiled egg, sliced fruit arranged neatly. "eat first."
you stare at him. "nanami, we don’t have time—"
"we have time," he interrupts gently, setting the plate on the counter. "you’re not leaving this house on an empty stomach. sit."
you sit. you always do. because when he looks at you like that—like taking care of you is the most important thing in the world—you can’t say no.
olderbf!nanami who never raises his voice, even when you’re being difficult. you’re arguing about something stupid—where to go for dinner, maybe, or whether you should cancel plans to stay in—and your voice is getting louder, your hands gesturing wildly.
he just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you. "you’re not even listening!" you snap.
"i am," he says quietly. "i’m listening to every word. and when you’re done, we’ll talk about it calmly. like adults."
you deflate, your anger fizzling out. "you’re too kind to me," you mutter.
he steps forward, his hands finding your waist. "you’re worth the kindness."
olderbf!nanami who takes his time undressing you, like every layer is a gift he’s unwrapping. you’re in his bedroom, the lights dimmed, and you’re already reaching for his belt, impatient, wanting him now.
"slow down," he murmurs, catching your hands. "we have all night."
you pout. "i don’t want to wait."
he leans down, his lips brushing your ear. "i know, baby. i know. but i’m going to make you wait. because the longer i take, the better it’ll feel when i finally touch you." he undresses you slowly, his fingers working each button, each zipper, until you’re standing in front of him in nothing but your underwear. he steps back, his eyes raking over you. "beautiful," he says. "now lay down."
olderbf!nanami who eats you out like it’s a meditation, like he could spend hours between your thighs and never get bored. you’re on your back, your legs over his shoulders, and he’s taking his time, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes.
"n-nanami—please—" you gasp, your hands fisting the sheets. he looks up at you, his mouth glistening.
"patience," he says, his voice calm even as he slides two fingers inside you. "i’m going to make you cum. but i’m going to do it my way." he curls his fingers, finding that spot that makes your vision blur, his tongue circling your clit with agonizing precision.
you’re moaning, your hips rolling, but he holds you down with one hand on your stomach. "stay still," he orders gently. "let me take care of you."
olderbf!nanami who fucks you slow and deep, his hips rolling in a rhythm that has you seeing stars. you’re on your stomach, your face pressed into the pillow, and he’s behind you, his chest pressed to your back, his cock buried so deep you can barely breathe.
"nanami—h-harder!!—" you beg, trying to push back against him. he stills, his hand sliding up your spine to grip the back of your neck.
"no," he says, his voice firm but kind. "you take what i give you." he starts moving again, each thrust deliberate, each roll of his hips dragging against your walls in a way that makes you sob. "you feel that?" he murmurs against your ear. "that’s me. all of me. and you’re going to take every inch, just like this. until you can’t think about anything but how full you are."
olderbf!nanami who makes you ask for what you want, his voice low and commanding. you’re straddling him, his cock inside you, but he’s not moving.
he’s just watching you, his hands on your hips, his thumbs stroking your skin.
"p-please, i.... i can't—" you whimper, trying to roll your hips. he holds you still.
"use your words," he says. "tell me what you want."
"i-i want you to move," you gasp. "i want you to fuck me."
he smiles, small and satisfied. "good girl. now ask nicely."
you bite your lip, your face burning.
"please fuck me, nanami. please."
he rewards you with a slow thrust upward, his cock hitting that spot inside you that makes you moan. "that’s it," he praises. "that's my girl."
olderbf!nanami who holds you after, his arms wrapped around you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. you’re lying on his chest, your body still trembling, your mind fuzzy with pleasure.
he’s stroking your hair, his lips pressed to the top of your head. "you did so well," he murmurs. "so beautiful. so perfect." you nuzzle closer, your eyes already drifting shut.
"you’re too good to me," you whisper. he kisses your forehead.
"no such thing. you deserve everything. and i’m going to give it to you for as long as you’ll let me."
olderbf!nanami who wakes you up in the morning with his mouth between your legs, because he’s not done taking care of you yet. you’re half-asleep, your body warm and heavy, when you feel his hands on your thighs, spreading you open.
"nanami—" you start, but then his tongue is on you, and you’re gasping, your hands flying to his hair. he looks up at you, his eyes dark.
"good morning," he says, his voice rough with sleep. "lay back. let me love you." and you do. because when nanami wants to be patient, you let him. every single time.
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Summary: An annoying midnight visit from your boyfriend was supposed to end with a sandwich, but he had a completely different craving in mind.
Author's Notes: Seems like Enjin won the polls. MDNI.
18+ oral (f. receiving)
You were sitting inside, minding your own business, when this massive thump rattled your ceiling.
As you stepped into the light of the streetlamp, you found Enjin dangling from your gutter. He’s hanging by the hooked handle of Umbreaker, swaying slightly in the humid breeze, looking remarkably relaxed.
"Enjin," you said, crossing your arms. "Explain. Now."
"Oh, hey," he said, doesn't even look startled. He gave you a little two-finger salute from the gutter. "Wanted to give you a little surprise visit. Since your window latch has been busted anyway, I figured I’d save you the walk to the front door."
"You were trying to peer into my room, weren't you?"
"Peer? Wow, okay, that's a strong word," he chuckled, though the sound is cut short when the gutter groans under his weight. He cleared his throat, his gaze shifting toward your front door. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have a ladder? Or a sandwich?"
You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. For someone who fights Trashbeasts for a living, there is absolutely no way he’s actually stuck; he could easily drop down on his own if he wanted to. He’s staying up there entirely to bug you and drag this bit out.
But as much as you'd love to just walk back inside and lock the door, he’ll probably end up tearing the entire gutter system right off the house.
"Just come inside here before the neighbors call the cops," you muttered as you trudged over to the garage, dragging out the heavy metal ladder.
Honestly, you have an agenda here. You will slap some turkey and mayo between two slices of bread, hand it over, and politely point him back toward the sidewalk so you can get back to your peaceful night.
But of course, things went entirely sideways.
"E... Enjin, slow down! This is too much..."
The sandwich never got finished. It sat half-assembled on a plate behind you, abandoned and forgotten, condiments pooling together in a mess. You were halfway through spreading the mayo when a warm, heavy weight pressed flush against your back. Then one thing led to another — his hands led to pulling, pulling led to pushing, pushing led to your back hitting the couch cushions. Clothes scattered across the floor as your shirt crumpled near the door, his jacket hanging off the desk chair, and everything else tangled together on the hardwood.
His hand gripped your thigh, hitching it higher, changing the angle to drag a sound out of you. He knew exactly how to drive you up, how to make your breath catch and your toes curl. He pulls out just enough to use his thumb to grind mercilessly against your clit.
"Too much, yeah? ...I'll slow down."
A beat.
"Eventually."
That cocky bastard. Still smirking even now, even with sweat rolling down his temple and his composure cracking at the edges. His hair had fallen loose from its usual slicked-back arrangement, strands of it curtaining his face as he dipped down.
You let out a choked, desperate sound as your fingers clenched into the sweat-dampened cushion as his tongue worked up all your sensitive spots, making your body jerk and convulse uncontrollably.
"You... you're a liar. You said you were hungry... for actual food."
"Both. Turns out I was hungry for both." A breathless laugh broke out of him. "Can you blame me?" The noises extended beyond obscene. There was never a steady rhythm, the motion of his mouth and tongue going either too fast or too slow and never really giving you a precise pattern that you could hold onto.
"You're absolutely destroying that poor cushion. If that were my shoulder, you’d have clawed me to shreds by now, hm?"
"Mm... I-I don't know..."
"Might have even torn right through my tattoos, for all I know."
His fingers curled around the backs of your knees, spreading you wider. Looking up at you through dark lashes with an expression caught somewhere between reverence and lust.
Your head thrashed back against the couch, your spine arching so violently your heels dig into his shoulders for leverage. The wet warmth kept going, lapping and lapping, making all of your nerves go haywire. A broken, high-pitched keening sound escapes you.
"Enjin—god, Enjin, please... I’m going to—"
"Please, what? Finish that sentence." His name in your mouth like that — did something irreversible to him. His fingers dug bruises into the soft flesh of your thighs as he held you steady through it.
You choked on the rest of the sentence, your eyes rolling back as the first wave of a shattering climax ripples through you, your thighs trembling uncontrollably against his ears.
Only when the shaking subsided to something manageable did he pull back. Chin slick. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and lifted his weight moving off you just enough to let you breathe, though he didn’t go far.
"Ah... look at that. You’re my absolute world, you know that?" he murmured, his voice thick with affection. He leaned down to pressed a firm kiss right to your earlobe, letting his breath warm your skin. "You have this hold on me, babe. I’m just so damn proud that you’re mine."
"Stop saying such embarrassing things, I hate you, Enjin!"
You groaned, your muscles feeling completely like jelly. The ceiling was still there, but your racing heart was finally starting to slow down.
Enjin just laughed, as he nipped gently at the skin he’d just kissed to catch you off guard. "Yeah, yeah. You hate me, breaking my heart here, babe."
He finally rolled off you and somehow — God knows how, given you'd stripped each other down to almost nothing — his cigarette pack was still in his back pocket. He fished it out, shook one loose with practiced ease, and lit it off the dying pilot light of your stove. Because apparently, using a lighter like a normal person was beneath him.
He took a slow drag, the orange glow illuminating the sharp lines of his face for a brief second before he exhaled the smoke away from you, watching the gray wisps drift toward the ceiling.
You threw up a weak hand to shove at his chest as he settled back down, but he didn't even budge. Instead, he caught your wrist mid-air. He just watched you through half-closed eyes, the cigarette dangling precariously between his fingers, completely silent. Which, for Enjin, was a miracle.
"Still hate me?" he teased.
Before you could snap back, he took another drag and reached over, gently tugging the mangled cushion out from under your head. He tossed it aside and replaced it with his own thigh, cradling you against him. He smoothed a few stray hairs away from your forehead.
"Oh, and the window latch thing," he added, tapping your nose playfully. "Seriously. Fix it."
Enjin sneaking and slipping into your bed from behind you, slithers his big, inky hands up along the curves of your hips up to the smooth skin beneath your shirt of your rib cage. greedy, inquisitive lips kissing slowly, suggestively at the back of your neck to the slant of your soft shoulder. you softly, tiredly mumble him a whispered enough and he whines a little, continuing on kissing your neck, stopping just at the juncture of your jawline, watching you peer swiftly over your shoulder.
"baby, I've missed you, please let me have this"
"En', no. I'm too tired, I've been on non-stop missions for the past few days, besides..." you slightly adjust yourself a bit, maneuvering the comforting blanket from your body to showcase a deeply nuzzled and coddled Dear sleeping ever so close to your chest. cute tiny little arms holding on to you with a grounding grip, snoring lightly. peacefully.
Enjin groans, irritatingly. slumps his head against your shoulder defeated, then sharply gazes down at the sleeping younger cleaner clinging onto his partner.
"what's he even doing in here anyways? shouldn't he be with Bro or something?"
"Enjin, stop. he had a nightmare, poor baby, and Bro is currently away on a mission. so get over it."
again, Enjin exceeds an annoyed protracted groan, but with more rolled vexation and provocation of not having his alone time with you. and solely, only with you. he rests his chin onto your shoulder, then catches a quick glimpse down at the now awakened young cleaner. smugly grinning up at him, snuggling closer into your warmth and tenderness.
and Enjin could feel his blood vessels pop rigorously along his neck and forehead. the knowing, menacing glint shimmering in the young cleaners eyes, triggering something so frenzied.
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I watched Gachiakuta - i’ve read all the current Manga chapters - and i still can’t shake these characters out of my head. SPECIALLY the idea of being a big sister or mother figure to all of the younger characters in the anime/manga.
Looking after Dear Santa and Guita when Bro needs a break. Taking them around to Canvas Town to hang out with Remlin so they can all have a play date and draw together. Taking Rudo along so he’s not left out and he can have fun as a child for once in his life.
Lefty Riyo style my hair however she wants because oh well it grows back. Talking about things she can’t really speak to Enjin about because come on- he’s Enjin.
Helping Zanka realise that he doenst have to always be the best, and when he fails it’s not something that defines him.
When Amo comes to The Cleaners - showing her what love can truely be. Making sure she eats and she’s happy, taking her out (or to August) to get more clothes, reminding her that she belongs here now (and bullying Enjin with her for fun).
Slowly helping Fu through whatever he’s gone through because damn it must be bad. Never leaving him behind or making him feel forgotten or abandoned.
Being a calming spot for Eisha and August, not taking over the role that Alice has in their lives of course.
Ugh I wanna take care of all of them so bad 😭
Let me know if anyone wants any more thoughts (maybe one shots 👀)
I personally headcanon that Hanma has never really had a reliable roof over his head, so he spent a lot of his years couch surfing and staying in motels and sometimes even having to sleep on the street. It never really bothered him per say but he's secretly sentimental so he would always take pictures of the places he stayed and the people he stayed with (he definitely has a bunch of photos of the inside of Kisakis house and some unflattering candids of Kisaki, even one where he's asleep lmao).
I think that really fits with Hanmas overall chaotic energy and with him becoming a freelance photographer in the final timeline. No rules, no restrictions, just movement and freedom.
This is also why I imagine that when you and him finally start dating, he takes a million candid photos of you and always carries some of them with him. He'll definitely try to get you to go on one of his photography road trips with him because what's better than always having pictures of you on hand? Always having you on hand. He's an ass and a menace to everyone else but you get to see his secret, soft, sentimental side.♡
I was tidying up a room, and right in the middle of it I saw a massive grandfather clock. At some point I noticed it had the AO3 symbol on it, so obviously I decided to take a picture and post it on Tumblr.
Except I accidentally captioned it, “guys check this out, I’ve got the one and only AO3 grandfather cock.”
I realized immediately, but by the time I reblogged it with “CLOCK” in all caps, it was too late. It had already done numbers on this hellsite.
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they should invent a secret second weekend so that you can see friends and do fun things while still having enough time to do errands and sleep in without dying of exhaustion all the time
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