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acapelladitty · 1 month

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Harvey Dent/Male Reader - Bootblacking

Summary: Harvey's boots are looking a little lackluster and he decides that it's your job to fix them up for him.

Kneeling at his feet, Harvey remains seated and the sheer aura of control which rolls from his dual-toned frame makes your mouth dry out as you gaze up at him, awaiting his next instruction.

“Start.”

The small tin gives a metallic creak as you open it, exposing the limited collection within. Two tins of polish sit atop the other beside a plastic tub of saddle soap and their position is held by a pair of horsehair brushes which fill out the remainder of the space. Small but well-loved, you pull free the various items you need with trembling fingers as arousal makes your hands shake.

Before you, Harvey’s feet are still against the floor as he sits on the edge of the bed. His grey boxers clung to his hips, the thin fabric incapable of hiding the thick bulge of interest which tented free below it. The only other piece of clothing which he wears are the black leather boots which are the focus of your attention, dragging your eyes away from his concealed cock.

The scent of fresh leather is strong, the boots brand new and purchased with this little job in mind. As it invades your senses, your cock twitches with interest, freely bobbing against your lower stomach as you ignore the temptation to touch it.

You twist open the tub of polish, quickly gathering some on the fresh microfibre cloth which it sits on. Your breath coming in short pants, you wrap your fingers around the heel of Harvey’s boot with reverence – feeling the thick tread pressing against your palm.

Flexing your hand, sharp teeth bite at your lower lip as you rub the polish along the upper; taking great care not to let any collect in the vamp as you gently begin to rub the leather with the cloth.

So focused on your task, you exhale as your fingers roll across the textured leather. Every seam and divot feels amplified beneath the thin cloth and you breathe the smell of the polish with a slackened mouth – arousal making it impossible to concentrate on anything else.

Working diligently, you glance up to see Harvey’s eyes on you. His head is tilted, scarred side facing you more directly, and his expression is intense; mouth twisted into a scheming smirk as his pitted skin shone in the meagre light.

Drawing the cloth across the side of the boot, the yellow fabric now stained black, you ghost your fingers across the leather, satisfied with the job you’ve managed. Rocking back on your ass, you release the boot and await his inspection.

Submissive pride blossoms in your chest as you clench the cloth between trembling fingers. Your gaze flicks between the boots and Harvey’s thick frame, his tented cock and bulging thighs giving way to his wide chest – the dark hair there only marred by the scarring which cuts through the hair in messy patterns.

Harvey shifts his finished foot, moving it enough to allow him to lean forward and examine the shine. The movement has the delicious effect of grazing your painfully stiff cock and your hips move of their own accord as they hump into the slight stimulation, your lips tight as they fight to hide a groan.

Exhaling a thick plume of smoke from his cigar, Harvey chuckles at the earnest reaction.

“Not a bad job.” He chides playfully. “Here, test it out for me.”

Tilting his foot down with purpose, the thick tread of the sole presses against your length and the cool sensation of it, as hard and unyielding as the man himself, draws a keening whine from your lips as your cock jerks against it.

“Harvey!” You groan out, hand wrapping around his exposed lower leg as you hold him in place against your grinding cock.

“Come.” Harvey demands, his voice low and gravelled. “I know you can, you little brat.” As he speaks, he rolls his ankle – the movement allowing the tread to massage your cock in a deliciously brutal way.

Already almost there, it doesn’t take much and, with a keening whimper, you hump your cock against him pathetically as your balls tighten. Your release is just as pathetic, leaking free of your slit to coat the head of your cock, and Harvey tilts his foot enough to rub the very tip of his boot in the mess; spreading it across the freshly polished leather with an observant hum.

Panting as you come down from your release, your fingers move of their own accord as they once again clean the mess from his boots.

Scooping up your cum, you bring it to your lips and taste yourself – the act earning you a rumble of approval from Harvey as his hand drops to his covered cock.

“Let’s take a break before you do the other one.” Harvey says, his voice almost a purr as his free hand cards through your hair with clear affection. “Your hands have been busy so let’s put that mouth to work for a change.”

Pulling his cock free, it stands to attention immediately and the sheer girth of him never fails to make your mouth water. Shuffling forward on your knees until your body was caged between his thick thighs, you wrap your hand around his cock and guide it towards your mouth with enthusiasm – a submissive determination to please settling deep in your chest.

“Yes, Sir.” You mutter, glancing up at him as you quick take his cock within your lips and set out to give him everything that he’s needing as you own cock hangs satisfied between your thighs.

#two face #harvey dent #two face x reader #harvey dent x reader #two face x you #harvey dent smut #dc comics #gotham rogues #batman villains

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impossiblesuitcase · 1 year

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Kai ranting about how frustrating everyone was in a very long meeting that left him so emotionally and physically exhausted that he’s on the verge of a breakdown as cinder rubs his back.>>> 👌👌

(Also very good chapter of mmm, love a good title drop)

Did I take this prompt and use it as an excuse to write an idea I've had for ages? Noooooooo. I would neveeeerrrrrr.

Voices in His Head

“The Eastern Commonwealth’s blatant loyalties to Luna make it wholly unequipped for any rational discussion—”

No.

“—the Olympic games is a fundamentally Earthen event, and not only is the empress asserting that we should include Lunar and cyborg athletes—”

Stop.

“—but she even insiuntates that it should be held on Luna.”

Shut up.

“Empre—”

SHUT. UP.

Queen Camilla’s words freeze in his mind, scratch and almost start up again.

Kai walks into the bathroom, bleary-eyed and spent. His dress shoes clack on the marble tiles and tinnitus crawls into his synapses, so awful it makes him want to wrench them off and shove them into his eardrums.

“Empress Selene would even imply tha—”

A shower. He needs a shower. He’s sticky and greasy and his hair is clinging to his forehead. At this very moment, he’s certain every arachnid mite living in his pores is raving.

(He’s been in his air-conditioned office all day.)

Their bathroom is straight out of one of those architecture netfeeds Iko pores over. Tall ceilings, double sinks with basins cut from a geode and coated in glass to protect their hands. Dim lights framing the mirror. A large freestanding tub with hidden jets, and overhead a bespoke chandelier. The shower has built-in seating and three heads and is wide enough to fit four, five, ten people and a horse.

Cinder is leaning against the sink, back to the mirror. Her hair is unusually free and tumbles down her shoulders as she scrubs her teeth. Her chequered red shorts and white singlet have lost opacity where they are stretched over her midsection.

Six months gestation, and though she’s hurled up her guts almost every single one of those days, she’s still the most beautiful mother-to-be he’s ever seen.

He is noticed as she turns around to the basin, her toothbrush lodged between her teeth. “‘Uo’re back!”

Kai pauses at the towel rack, steadying his hands on the metal bar. The shelf adjacent is already home to three rubber ducks, two bottles of baby shampoo, a microfibre koala towel and a thermometer.

“‘Ow was da meeding?” she garbles. She leans over the faucet—spits, gargles, and wipes her mouth with a towel.

His feet are finally free of his shoes, next his socks. When she straightens, he’s struggling to pull off the left with his toes.

“Kai?”

“It was fine.”

She sighs, stringing the towel over the rail. “Isn’t it kind of the union leaders to choose a time that’s great for their time zones and terrible for ours?”

He forces a single scornful chuckle. His sweat has left condensation on the rail, and his towel is absent.

Cinder passes him a fresh one unbidden, then bumps the drawer closed with her hip. “Sorry I left you to fend for yourself in there—Doctor’s orders and, oh! Doctor Li moved the blood count test to Friday.” Eyes alight, bright and hopeful. “Do you wanna get away tomorrow?”

“We have the meeting with the chancellor,” he reminds her flatly.

She deflates, thumping her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Stars, I can’t remember anything these days. Stupid”—wack—“pregnancy”—wack—“brain.”

“It’s almost 1 am. You need some rest.”

She’d been napping when he left for the meeting, not before moving her from the couch to their bed. He’d hoped she would stay asleep. But she woke up, on purpose, to wait for him. Again.

“You look like you need it too.” She smiles tenderly, extending her hand for him to take.

He takes it. Squeezes. Pulls away. “I’m gonna have a shower.”

The smile falls. “You already had one this morning.”

His hands fumble with the hem of his shirt, trying to pull it free—it’s stuck around his wrists. Kai dumbly pulls and grunts. Pulls, pulls, pulls.

When he doesn’t respond, her brow creases, quietly worried. “You look tired. Why don’t you just come to bed?”

Finally, he figures out that the shirt is a button down. The button holes are near impossible with numb fingertips but eventually he’s slinging the shirt across the bathroom floor.

Then, wordlessly, he approaches her, kisses her forehead, and crouches to kiss her stomach.

Cinder looks at the ground; at him. “I’ll wait for you.”

Don’t. But she’ll ignore him anyway.

Kai makes it into the shower and puts it on full blast. It’s scalding. He curses under his breath, steps out of the stream, turns around for the soap.

Cinder is still in the bathroom, lingering by the doorway. She isn’t looking at him—more towards the bay windows and seven potted plants underneath. Yet there’s a reason she’s here.

She’s done this—this pensive hovering—a lot over the past year and a half. The year and a half which was better chronicled by months; months of hoping, months of disappointment.

He grabs the soap, catching it as it slips out of his hands. Footsteps retreat into their bedroom.

It’s his fault, of course. He has no siblings. No aunts or uncles. He is the last in line for the throne.

Kai scrubs his chest.

Hereditary male infertility. Cinder had even reasoned that perhaps her cybernetics had damaged her reproductive system—trying to take some of the blow. But the doctors said in no uncertain terms that she was as good a candidate for pregnancy as any.

It’s his fault.

Months of vitamins almost as many calories as his breakfast congee. Months of the exact same soul-crushing, taunting, singular pink line. Every time, Cinder would hug him and assure him that she didn’t blame him, that it would happen for them.

“It takes two to make a baby, you know. If one of us is having issues, we both are,” she’d said.

He had smiled weakly.

But as the waiting went on too long, she stopped telling him that the tests were coming back negative. Stopped telling him she was taking them at all. But he’d hear her curse when she got her period, not just in annoyance for the blood staining their bedsheets. Hear her hushed conversations over comm with her obstetrician. Complain of more headaches than usual—the ones she gets in place of crying.

He turns off the water, feeling a sting in his own eyes.

———

Kai is shivering by the time he leaves the bathroom.

Cinder is still awake as promised, though her heavy eyelids imply it’s an active fight. The bed sheets are wrinkled from her previous nap and she’s snuggled into the baby blue pregnancy pillow that Scarlet recommended for sciatica. Kai grudges the fluffy cocoon because its walls keep him from holding her at night. But he wants her to be comfortable, so he doesn’t let that fact reach his vocal chords.

Cinder absently scrolls through her portscreen as he approaches the bed. Feet jelly, he flops onto her side and crawls over her legs.

She giggles under her breath. “Lazy.”

Drained, Kai thinks.

His side of the bed is cold. Despite this, he can’t be bothered to pull up the blanket or turn off his bedside lamp. He just stares blankly ahead. Little flickers of light scatter outside, like stars in his vision. He’s forgotten to close the blinds to the balcony window, he vaguely realises.

Can’t be bothered.

Then again, it’s not a bad thing to fall asleep to. Though the front of the palace stands towering above the crowded New Beijing metropolis, this side faces a picturesque mountain range. Where the city welcomes more artificial light than darkness, the mountain lights are patchy; sparse from town to town.

He and Cinder love to stand on their balcony at night and gulp in the air and dream about getting lost in those forests.

“What’s wrong, love?”

The port has been moved to her nightstand, plugged in and facing down. She’s looking at him.

A safe shake of the head. “Nothing.”

Her hand snakes out from underneath the pillow and tucks around his back. It’s frighteningly cold; it skips like stones over a frozen lake on his skin. A moment later, he realises it’s actually warm, hot even, and his brain has misinterpreted the temperature.

Cinder stalls the hand at the small of his back. “Please don’t lie to me,” she whispers.

He sighs deeply, explanations clogging his throat. That warm flesh against his skin reminds him of the hot metal rods used for archaic torture and interrogation. It’s a disturbed, callous thought he regrets immediately, even if he couldn’t control it escaping from his deep unconscious.

“It was just…the meeting.”

“Didn’t go well?”

Something derisive leaves his throat. “You could say that.”

Deep brown eyes that still visit his dreams, imploring. Her hand cups his waist. “Tell me about it.”

“Empress Selene would even imply that her trauma validates her opinion over ours.”

“No,” he says firmly. “It’s not important.”

She scoffs. “It obviously is, if it’s got you this drained.”

He rolls over, facing away from her. “I’m fine,” he says curtly. “Don’t worry about me.”

Kai tempers his breaths. This new position is already growing uncomfortable. He waits.

No sarcastic response. Not even a pitying reply. A glance over his shoulder reveals her frowning, pinched lips.

There it is again, that lingering. Kai hates having her worry about him. He hates that, before, he was too overwrought and uncoiled from wanting to curse into the wind to really take care of her as much as she needed. Hates that during that time he could bring down any cheerful mood, like when they played a boardgame with Cress and Thorne—which Cinder had deliberately arranged as a breather for him—and he became snarky when he was the only player to not land on a ‘have a baby’ tile.

Of course, they have all the univs on the planet. All the resources in the galaxy. They could’ve marched into their doctor’s office, get hooked up to the latest high-tech fertility machines and walk out soon-to-be parents.

But the procedures would be incredibly invasive for Cinder. Just hearing the lengths of it made his stomach flip-flop upside down and inside out.

Cinder had endured surgery after operation and trauma after mutilation. He couldn’t do that to her. Not when this was a simple, fundamental thing he should be able to give her.

So they waited. And he underestimated how much that waiting would corrode him. Now she’s pregnant, and he isn’t going to let a minute pass by without taking care of her.

Ignoring her, freezing her out, is not taking care of her, chants a voice in his head.

“Kai, my love, look at me.”

He does as asked.

She reaches over, stroking his cheek. Her eyes drop to his chest. “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

Wistfulness envelopes her face. “You know, it doesn’t matter what you could be talking to me about—the apocalypse, certain death.” The switch back to his eyes is sharp. “What really stresses me out is when you don’t talk to me.”

That voice was right. Stupid stupid stupid.

“I don’t want to worry you,” he repeats.

“I know.” Lines crinkle around her eyes with her smile. “But I will always worry about you. That’s the deal. And you won’t stress out Peony either: she can’t hear.”

“Actually, her ears are already formed and functioning. I was reading up on it the other day.”

“Well, she can’t comprehend what we’re saying.”

“Cinder,” he feigns offence, “are you calling our daughter dumb?”

A long eye roll. “Kai.”

“Sorry.”

She sits up unexpectedly, extricating herself from the baby blue pillow. It’s thrown to the floor with groan and no doubt a few jugfuls of strength, then she secures herself in his arms instead.

He’s too tired to dial down his eagerness. This is what he’s needed all day, all month, all ever. He cradles her rapaciously.

“Talk to me,” muffles against his shirt.

And he does. Gripes about Queen Camilla barely shrouding her prejudice against Cinder, and the other leaders agreeing, despite everyone in the room knowing it was born out of jealousy for the younger, more popular ruler. Rants about President Vargas and his new bill that would fold all trade route monopolies into his hand, and how the fully-informed other leaders supported it! All because the Union was growing suspicious of the Commonwealth for opening new internal routes, believing they were attempting to splinter off and rely on their own economy.

He does and he does until he’s almost crying from frustration, because this is the last thing they need right now. These inane arguments would persist until after Peony came, and they didn’t deserve to have to entertain and coddle squabbling politicians. They shouldn’t have to cradle fragile adults when they should be cradling a fragile daughter.

Cinder listens and holds him. Listen and hold, listen and hold. As he winds down, recoils into back his spring, she pulls his hand to her heart, the other to her stomach. Peony is awake too.

Badum, kick, badum, kick, badum.

“Thank you,” she says finally.

“Thank you,” he says meaningly.

Under his palm, a thin, jagged scar peeks out from her singlet, starting at the swell of her breast and reaching her sternum. It’s the length of his pinky finger and almost the length of her ring finger; they’ve measured it before.

Kai caresses the pale memory under his thumb. It’s faded over time, but it could fade more. Doctors recommended laser treatments, skin grafting, cell turnover acceleration. Cinder declined it all. She wears her scar without apology. It wasn’t her fault her crazed aunt stabbed her in the heart.

It isn’t his fault.

Cinder directs his chin with a warm metal hand and kisses him like she’s the one whispering that assurance to him. Like she means it.

Badum, kick, kick, badum.

“Can we reschedule the meeting with the chancellor?” she whispers after a while.

He laughs. “No. I’d love to say yes, but we really can’t.”

She squints. Yawns, not too disheartened. “Then can we do something this weekend?”

“Like what?”

Deep brown eyes that still visit his dreams, sparkling and romantic. “Since Peony can hear, how about…” She shifts awkwardly in his hold to point at the glistening mountainous skies. “A walk through the forest?”

A deep inhale. Crisp air, frozen in time. Towering trees that would remain and thrive despite any number of problems he faced or caused.

“Birds chirping, a creek burbling, just like when you proposed?” She gives him a nudge, though he needs no convincing. “Won’t that be nice for her?”

Wind rustling through leaves. Twigs crunching under his feet. Cicadas humming where he’ll never see.

“Peace and quiet for Mummy and Daddy?” he teases.

A laugh, and then she tucks back into his neck.

———

The forest is silent, yet Cinder’s smile is speaking a thousand unsung words. It’s okay. I love you. You’re doing your best.

Maybe he can listen to the voices in his head, when it’s her.

Notes

My reasoning as to why Kai may be infertile.

Hey, question! Anyone like Cresswell fic and would want to be tagged?

@cinderswrench @cindersassasin @hayleblackburn @spherical-empirical @salt-warrior @just2bubbly @gingerale2017 @zephyr-thedragon @holdmysparks @oceanspray5 @icarusignite @shellyseashell @kaider-is-my-otp @slmkaider @luna-maximoff-22 @cosmicnovaflare @kaixiety @shellyseashell

#tlc #cinder #kaider #the lunar chronicles #lunar chronicles #linh cinder #emperor kaito #prince kai #selene blackburn #tlc fandom #marissa meyer #lunar chronicles fanfiction #kaider fanfiction #married kaider #post something old something new #post sosn #kaider as parents #kaider pregnancy

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the-head-ancho-chilli · 2 years

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General Gyomei Headcannons

I was talking with a friend about how Gyomei so I thought that’d I would share some headcannons (modern-ish au). Enjoy ^^

Word count: 800~

Starting this off, this man gives awkward dad energy

Normally has no idea what he’s doing

He can provide for physical needs no problem, but quality time isn’t normally his forte

He will gently knock on your door and ask if you want to go to grocery shopping with him

Will buy ANYTHING you mention to him

The ice cream sandwiches you said you had at a friend’s house? Has a whole year supply

Did you recently start a series that you can’t seem to tear yourself away from? He will purchase the first merchandise he sees

Gyomei will sometimes come home with a bunch of stuff that reminds him of you

Usually he gives them to you, but sometimes enjoys having a small memento of you ^^

Gyomei doesn’t show it but he loves watching you have fun with your hobbies, trying not to disturb you while you’re in your headspace

Conversations with him are kinda dry because of how quiet he is

Ironically he seems to know a lot of gossip, but usually minds his own business

Gyomei looks very intense but is actually a gentle giant

If he bumps into you he will gently lift you up, turn and place you down out of the way

“I’m so sorry about that, I hope I didn’t scare you” He says while patting your head in an attempt to comfort you

If he were to give you a lesson or teach you anything, he would try sharing different mindfulness

Gyomei doesn’t expect you to be incredibly open with your issues or personal stuff, but he would at least like to show you some resources that might help you

He’s a busy man so he doesn’t have many hobbies, but Gyomei enjoys pottery

Once made these little snails that you keep on a shelf in your room

This man 100% wears cargo shorts and Hawaiian shirts, look me in the eyes and tell me otherwise

I feel like Gyomei’s biggest insecurity is his issues with using and recognize body language and nonverbal communication

It’s not just that he’s blind and would most likely not be able to see the fists you make when your annoyed, it’s also how he portrays himself

If he’s slumped over too much, he can look exhausted and unwilling to participate in a conversation

But if his posture is too upright, he appears to be in deep focus when in reality he’s thinking about dinner plans

Gyomei’s Resting Bjtch Face TM isn’t the worst out of the Hashira, but it’s bad enough to let anyone believe that he’s not exactly the approachable type

In reality, he feels sometimes isolated because of how many people avoid him due to his intimidating appearance

He enjoys getting to know animals because they cure them whatever loneliness he’s feeling

HE LOVES CATS! Cats are his favourite animal by far, big or small

Speaking of cats, I can definitely imagine him keeping a Persian Cat as a pet

I spoke enough about good habits, but Gyomei definitely has some bad habits

Like I swear this man oversalts his food AND STILL keep a salt shaker at the dinner table

“It could use a bit more salt” dude your steak is already seasoned what are you doing

It would be funny if you got him a salt lamp

Going back to bad habits with body language, Gyomei sometimes just doesn’t answer your questions

You’ll ask him something like “Hey, should we go on a walk right now or maybe later on?” And you will just get nothing but silence

Again, he’s probably just thinking about something mundane

But he usually doesn’t give verbal or physical indicators because of how he struggles with body language

“Umm, are you ok?” “Yes of course, why do you ask? A walk sounds great right about now”

It’s manageable, but yet ever so slightly annoying

He certainly doesn’t mean to ignore you

Changing to more general stuff again, Gyomei would be the king of textures

He really values the physical feel of some things in his life like household objects and cleaning products, so nothing would feel even just a bit unbearable

He’s a microfibre cloth hater, can’t stand them

Loves getting his hands manicured

Gyomei’s hands may be calloused, but they’re still pleasant to hold and we’ll maintained

Gyomei’s favourite form of affection is pats of any kind

Head pats for comfort, shoulder pats for a accomplishments, you name it

Hugs from Gyomei are very dad-like too

He would crouch down a little and let you wrap your arms around him, as he slowly rubs your back

“Here, you can hold my hand. Take as long as you need”

Overall, as long as you tell him what you need, Gyomei has your back

꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚ ꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚ ꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚

Hopefully all of you enjoyed this! I’m kinda new to posting so I’m not sure if I’ll keep this format, so let me know what you all think! Feel free to use these headcannons in a platonic or romantic sense, either is suitable. My suggestion box is open so feel free to submit any requests ^^

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny blog #demon slayer blog #gyomei x reader #kny fanfic #kny hashira #kny headcanons #kny gyomei #gyomei himejima #demon slayer gyomei #demon slayer hashira #demon slayer headcanons #fluff #demon slayer fluff #kny fluff

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