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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 9 days

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Some angst to fluff of himbo kiri finding out reader is pregnant?-🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️

Red Riot: Unbreakable Baby Daddy

Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Eijiro Kirishima x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Angst to Fluff, Romance, Pregnancy, Smut

CW: MDNI!, A18+, PIV, pregnancy sex, oral, lemon, profanity

Link to My Master List

Well, shit.

You stand in your apartment bathroom nervously tapping your foot as you re-read the pregnancy test instructions. Plus sign means positive. Minus sign means negative. You grab the test with clumsy hands and it almost goes sailing into the toilet – almost. You manage to catch it before it hits the porcelain throne and you scramble to read it again. There, on the cheap drugstore pregnancy test, is the faintest of plus signs.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Okay – gotta think this through. Have you always wanted a baby? Yes. But are you ready for a baby now!?

Your mind whirs through all of the details of your life – steady partner? Check. Reliable source of income? Check. Decent living space? Check.

Sure, you’re a little younger than you would have liked, but to hell with it – you have everything you need to bring a baby into this world. So why the heck not!?

A baby! You’re going to have a baby. And not just any baby – Eijiro Kirishima’s baby.

You laugh giddily and race out of the bathroom to get your phone. It’s lying on the floral Ikea bedspread where you left it.

You click open your home and see your background is currently an image of Keanu Reeves from John Wick. Oh. That’s right – you had swapped our your usual background pic of Kirishima for this image last night. After you two had fought for an hour.

Your petty revenge on Eijiro has always been to change your phone background to a hot, skinny actor. It always drives him a little crazy – he hates to see you lust over other celebrities. Especially the slim, emo looking ones – it always makes him a little on edge that his big muscular himbo body might no longer be your taste. It’s petty of you, and maybe even a little mean playing into your boyfriend’s insecurities like this…but it’s really the only ammo you have against him when you’re annoyed or angry. Of all the things a person could do to get back at their partner for something, having Keanu as your phone background doesn’t seem so bad.

You swipe to unlock your phone and pull up your last conversation with Kiri. You know you need to tell him ASAP, but the two of you haven’t spoken since your blowout the night before. It’s not as if you’ve broken up or anything, but you both needed some space.

You think back to the argument. The two of you rarely fight, but this particular quarrel had been festering for months. Kirishima maintains in public that he’s single. He refuses to put you in the spotlight, worrying that in announcing he’s “involved” with you, he’ll be putting you in harm’s way. He’s put away so many villains over the past decade, and he fears that they would come after you as revenge on Red Riot.

For months you’ve been telling him you’re ready to take on the risk. The two of you have been a couple for 3 years now. When he refuses to acknowledge that he has a girlfriend in the press, it makes you feel insecure. Does he not take this relationship seriously? Does he not think that you two are capable of going the distance? In private, he worships the ground you walk on, but is that all just for show when you’re alone?

The night before, you had expressed these fears and doubts, practically begging Eijiro to call his publicist and break the news that Japan’s Sturdy Hero is taken and off the dating market.

Aside from your personal insecurities, you hate seeing the way that women endlessly flirt with Eijiro in public. They ask for selfies, wrapping their hands around his thick biceps and planting chaste kisses on his chiseled cheek. Eijiro, being the manly hero he is, always vehemently shuts down their advances. But you always wonder, if the right pretty woman were to come along and ask for a date – would he say yes?

Despite your anxieties, Red Riot is unwaveringly loyal, and would never entertain the thought of cheating. But that doesn’t stop the media from insinuating that he’s dating a new super model or Pro Hero every other week. You hate seeing him plastered on magazines in the grocery store, photoshopped next to a Top 20 hero with a nice rack and a thousand watt smile.

You think back to the argument last night, replaying it in your head like an old film reel.

You had stood in your tiny apartment kitchen, cleaning up after a delicious dinner the two of you had cooked together. Earlier that day, you had seen a tabloid at the mall showing off a particularly salacious photo of Red Riot after a particularly gruesome battle – half of his uniform had been torn off, revealing budging muscles and his dark happy trail that disappeared into his work pants. The image showed your boyfriend sitting on the edge of an ambulance as a pretty nurse smiled up at him and wrapped up a wound on his arm. The tabloid had a flashy title splashed across the cover “Red Riot Finds Love in the Field!?” You had begrudgingly purchased the magazine, bringing it home so you could show Kiri how ridiculous the media is getting, and how much it bothers you.

“Look at this, Eij. I have to see these all the time.” You toss the magazine in his direction and he catches it, smirking at the image on the cover.

“Wow, how did they even get that picture? I didn’t see any press at that fight.” He wonders, flipping through to the article. “’Chivalrous Hero Red Riot does it again – defeats the villain and seemingly gets the girl. Did we see sparks between the sturdy hero and the pretty EMT patching him up? Sources on the ground say he asked the emergency worker to dinner to thank her for her efforts.’ Wow, babe, you’re totally right. They’re absolutely making shit up about me. But hey – I do think I look pretty good in this pic, don’t you?”

He cocks an eyebrow and holds the article up for you to see – you didn’t see this picture earlier. You had been too angry to look at the actual article. The image shows Eijiro standing strong in his hero gear – his arms are crossed and a confident smile sparkles across his handsome face. The picture turns you on a bit – you always love the way he has learned to own the spotlight, to look unbreakable in the face of danger. It’s one of the reasons why you love him so damn much – his confidence in tough situations. You know that it took a lot of work for him to get to this point – he used to second guess himself so much when he was younger. But Eijiro had put in the time and the work in building his self esteem and his hero career, and now he is able to save people with a grin on his face. You’re so damn proud of the strong, capable hero he’s become.

You push down your arousal and get back to the point. “Yeah, babe. You always look great. But look…the point is I don’t like the way that they are always trying to ship you with whatever woman is in your vicinity. It really hurts me.” You pause, looking away from the article and getting back to washing your dishes in the sink. You pass a wet dish to Eijiro which he dries wordlessly before placing it in your dish cabinet. “I want you to tell people about me – I want to be part of your life in every way possible. Babe…please.”

“No.” He says soundly, before rattling off all of the reasons why he doesn’t want your relationship public. The two of you continue washing and drying dishes together as you talk.

“But Katsuki and Izuku’s relationship is public! Kyoka and Denki! Shoto and YaMomo!” You say accusatorily, shutting off the faucet as you finish washing the final bowl. You shove it into his chest pointedly and stalk off to the living room. He dries the bowl and places it on the counter before following. You plop down on the couch and cross your arms. Eijiro is giving you a weird, stricken look. He doesn’t want to be having this conversation.

“Babe. I’m gonna say something that’s going to really piss you off. But I need you to understand if from my point of view. All of our couple friends…well, yeah they can be public about their relationships. Because they’re all Pro Heroes. And you’re…well, you know. You’re not. You’re a citizen who never worked to develop your quirk and you have no true combat experience. It’s different with all of them.”

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and anger. “So what!?” You practically yell, hating to be reminded that you’re the only one in your boyfriend’s massive friend group who isn’t a Hero. “What does that matter? You think I can’t take care of myself!?”

“No, it’s not that. I just want you to think about the training we all have and the threats we face everyday. All of our friends can go toe to toe with the worst super villains known to society. So if some goon came after them looking for revenge…they would be able to deal with it. But babe…you’re not a Pro. I don’t want to get you involved in anything dangerous or scary. I need you to understand that and see if from my perspective.” He goes quiet, looking at you for an answer.

You’re furious. You can kind of understand where he’s coming from here, but whatever stretch of understanding you have is buried under pure undiluted rage.

“So your saying our relationship isn’t the same as all of your friend’s relationships? Ours isn’t worth celebrating and having public?”

“No, that’s not it at all! Babe. You are the most precious thing in my life and I do not want to put you in jeopardy. I need you to understand that.” He says pleadingly.

“I’m tired of seeing all those hot Pro Heros hanging on you and flirting with you on talk shows! I am sick of being quiet and watching other women fawn all over you like you’re some sort of man whore.”

“Y/N…you know that I don’t like getting that attention and that it makes me uncomfortable. I’ve been trying to set boundaries with my fans and co-workers and I do feel like people are starting to get more respectful about touching me. Babe, I know you don’t like that and I’m really pushing back when women get close to me out in the field. Please believe me.”

You do. Of course you believe him. But if everyone just knew about your existence, you’re sure they would back the fuck away from your boyfriend.

“Eij. I believe you and I understand where you’re coming from. But I’m so tired of feeling like I’m some kind of dirty secret. I’m just so angry right now, I don’t think I can talk about this anymore tonight. Just…leave.” You’re getting a stress headache. You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes in an attempt to stave off the pain, but it just gets worse. You walk away, leaving him sitting on the couch and looking upset.

He calls out after you, but doesn’t follow. “Y/N! I just wish you really understood why I want to keep this private. Please.”

A few minutes later, you hear the door slam closed behind him. You don’t text or call each other for the rest of the night.

But none of that matters now. That stupid argument is nothing - not now that Eijiro’s baby is growing deep inside you. You shriek with excitement. You need to let your boyfriend know ASAP. He’s leaving on a big mission soon, and you need to make sure you catch him before he goes into his next strategy session with Katsuki, Sero and Izuku.

You scramble to swipe open your stupid screensaver and pull up your contacts. You hit Kirishima’s name and let it ring, bringing the phone to your ear with giddy excitement.

The phone rings and rings. Finally, you hear your boyfriend’s gravely voice pick up on the other end.

“…hello?” He sounds annoyed.

“Eijiro. I need you to come over to my apartment…like, ASAP.”

His voice instantly looses its cold edge. “What’s wrong? Y/N – is everything alright?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean…I’m not sure! But I need you here right now. It’s urgent.”

“Is it about our fight last night? Because I’m still upset about it, but I am sorry if I minimized your feelings. I really can’t leave right now, we’re about to go and - ”

“Eij.” You cut him off midsentence. “I wouldn’t be asking you to leave work if it weren’t super important.”

He sighs, breathing out heavily into the phone receiver. “Okay. Give me 20 minutes.”

“Got it.”

He hangs up. It’s a mark of how upset he still is that he doesn’t end the call with his usual “Love you, sweetheart.” But you don’t care. You have a feeling that what you have to tell him will change everything.

The next 20 minutes are gonna feel like the longest of your life. You feel like you’re bursting at the seams with the news of your positive pregnancy test. You dance and twirl around the little apartment, using your frenetic energy to tidy. You clean the countertop and stove, flip through your junk mail and even fluff the pillows on your navy blue couch.

In a fit of inspiration, you scurry to your room and throw on your black silk dress. It’s sinfully tiny, with a slit running up the thigh. It’s by far Eijiro’s favorite outfit of yours. When he sees you in it, he can’t keep his hands off of you.

By the time that you hear his key turn in the apartment door, you’re fit to vibrate out of your skin you’re so excited. You watch him stumble in across the apartment threshold, looking world-weary and exhausted from a long day of mission strategy and patrolling.

“There’s my hero.” You say, running and throwing your arms around his thick, muscular neck. He catches you easily in his arms, his strong hands running down the smooth silk of your dress in disbelief.

“Is this your way of apologizing?” He mumbles into your shoulder. You laugh, giving him a squeeze before taking a step back from him.

“About that fight we had? It doesn’t matter right now. It’s irrelevant. I need you to forget about it.”

His eyes travel the length of your body, appreciating the way the dress hugs your curves. The slit up your thigh is of particular interest to his bright ruby eyes.

“Consider it forgotten.” He says, but he still sounds skeptical. “Now what was so urgent that you had me leave work in the middle of a strategy session? Bakugo almost ripped my head off when I told him I needed to come to your apartment.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that. He’ll understand.”

“You sound awfully confident about that.” Eijiro raises an eyebrow, a frown plastered on his handsome face. “Must be something pretty important.”

“It is.” You grab his hand, dragging him across your tiny apartment and towards the bathroom. “Join me in the restroom.”

“Uh…okay.” Eijiro is flabbergasted, tossing his workbag to the ground as he follows after you. You pull him into your small blue tiled bathroom and push him down to sit on the toilet seat. Some news is best taken sitting down.

“Alright.” You reach into the medicine cabinet to grab the orange washcloth that you’ve stowed the pregnancy test in. “Close your eyes.”

“What’s going on, Y/N?” He sounds a mix of exhausted, tired and annoyed.

“Just go with it. I promise it’s worth the wait.” He sighs and obeys, closing his eyes and turning his face up towards the ceiling. You marvel for a moment at how – despite his manly himbo physique – he’s just so damn pretty. You hope your baby inherits the sharp curve of his chin and those glimmering ruby eyes.

You unwrap the pregnancy test from the washcloth and hold it out like an offering in front of Eijiro.

“Okay.” You take a shaky breath. “Open your eyes.”

Eijiro does as he’s told and stares blankly at you and the test for a moment.

“What’s this…?” He starts to say, and then it registers. The pregnancy test. The tiny plus sign.

“OH MY GOD.” He leaps off of where he’s sitting on the toilet seat and scrambles to grab the plastic strip from your hands. He holds it close to his eyes and then far away again, taking in the magnitude of what it means. “Is this what I think it is!? When? How!?” He looks up at you in wonder over the test.

“Remember that camping trip with all of our friends up at the lake? We borrowed Bakugo’s car so we could go pick up some pizza from town, but we ended up pulling off the road and fucking in the back seat before we cleared the woods.” You smile, thinking back to the fated trip a few weeks ago.

Eijiro’s face is ghostly white as his eyes widen in realization. “Oh my God – we didn’t use a condom.” He sucks in a breath.

“I asked if you wanted to cum in my mouth but you were just begging me to let you cum inside. You kept calling me “sweet heart” and the “love of my life.” And it was so pathetic and sweet that I thought oh, what the hell! Maybe just this once! And now here we are.”

“Oh my God.” Eijiro takes a few steps forward and then sinks to his knees before you on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. Even on kneeling, he’s just so tall. He brings his head down to rest on your belly. You tense up, unsure of what to say. Everything is still and quiet, and your nerves are on edge.

Finally, Eijiro looks up at you, his wide ruby eyes glimmering with tears. A shaky grin spreads across his face. “Babe…I’m so happy.” He places a kiss to your stomach before disentangling himself. He gets back to his feet and pulls you back into his arms. “I’m sorry for that bullshit argument. It seems so silly now.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck. “I just…” You hear him choke back a sob, his shoulders shaking. “I love you so much. I can’t even tell you what this means to me…I always pictured us having kids someday, but it always seemed like such a distant future thing. And now here we are. Sure, it’s unplanned and there’s a lot we need to figure out. But God, I feel so lucky.”

This brings tears to your eyes as well. You hug him back, breathing in his scent deeply. He smells like cinnamon – you’re sure he grabbed one of his favorite cinnamon donut snacks on the walk over from his agency. You snuggle into his arms and stifle back come joyful crying.

“We’re going to have the most beautiful family, Eij.” You say into his thick chest.

“Yes, we are. I bet the baby will have your beautiful eyes, and that glowing smile.” He runs his hand over your back soothingly, reaching across you to gingerly place the pregnancy test on the sink counter.

“I hope it looks like you – shark teeth and all. Can you imagine? Red Riot, Jr.” You laugh. “You’ll have a little mini-Kiri running around.” You both grin at the image. “I should start calling you Red Riot: Unbreakable Baby Daddy.”

This makes Eijiro laugh. “Hey I like that! But wow, Y/N. Just wow.”

He sweeps you off your feet and into his arms, carrying you out of the bathroom and into your clean living room.

“We have so much to talk though. Hell, I should call out of that mission this week. We need to figure a ton out. Whose apartment do we want to move into – or should we get a new place together? We should do some financial planning, figure out childcare. What’s your job’s maternity leave policy look like? Shit, we’ll need to find a doula. Someone at the agency recommended having a doula. And at what point do we tell our friends? Our parents? Babe, you’ll need to build us one of your signature spreadsheets or planners or whatever, I - ”

“Shhh, Kiri.” You put a finger to his lips. “Babe, there’s plenty of time for all of that. Just let it sink in for a minute.” You’re wrapped up in his arms as he caries you across the room, holding you up like it’s nothing. Your Kirishima is such a strong hero, and you feel a fierce flame of pride flare up in your chest – this man is all yours.

You’re both silent for a moment, taking it all in. A baby. The two of you made a baby. It’s an incredible, almost unfathomable thought.

After a moment or two of quiet, Eijiro looks up at you mischievously. “So yeah, we can figure out all the financial and medical stuff later…but in terms of fuckin’…does this mean 9 months of unlimited cream pies?”

You shriek in surprise.

“OH MY GOD KIRI THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE THINKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW!?” You cry out, your voice echoing through the apartment as you bat at him playfully, cackling. He leans down so he can capture your lips in a searing kiss. Oh, God. Yeah – he’s being serious. He breaks the kiss and puts you down on the couch lightly so that you’re sitting up and he drops to his knees before you.

“I think we should celebrate, baby.” He slides his hands up under your tiny silk dress, causing the fabric to gather at the tops of your thighs. “Ah, fuck you’re gorgeous.” He runs his fingers across your legs, leaving goose bumps peppering your skin. He peaks beneath your dress to see cute striped panties underneath. A hunger sparks in his eyes – his shark-toothed grin is ravenous, roguish.

He spreads your legs and scoots himself in between them, leaning forward to press a kiss against your clothed pussy. He brings up his hand and runs it across your panties, lightly circling your clit before tracing down, down, down.

“You getting’ wet for me, babe?” He whispers hoarsely, not taking his eyes off of your panties.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” You tease. You’re rewarded with a light pinch to your clit that causes you to yelp in surprise. “Kiri!” He chuckles, using his fingers to move the fabric of your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to the cool air of the room.

“So wet for me, sweet heart.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss your palm. He takes your forefinger and brings it to his mouth, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. He then moves your hand to your pussy and encourages you to pleasure yourself. “Show me how my baby likes it.”

You moan as you touch yourself, playing with your clit and dipping your fingers shallowly at the entrance of your pussy. Eijiro gets to his feet and takes off his hero costume, dropping his pants and underwear to the ground and freeing his hardening cock.

“You’re putting on quite a show, baby.” He says, leaning forward to slip the dress’s spaghetti straps off your shoulders. “Now show me those pretty tits.” He pushes the fabric of the dress down, exposing your chest. Your nipples perk up the instant the air hits them. He pinches your nipples lightly and then kneads your breasts a bit, one in each hand. The dress is now scrunched across your middle, most of you exposed to Kirishima’s greedy eyes. He takes a step back so that he can begin to stroke his cock as he watches you go to work on your pussy. You bite your lip and look away, almost embarrassed at the intensity of his gaze.

“You warmed up a little, baby?” He asks, leaning forward to plant his arms against the couch with you wedged helplessly in between. He kisses you again, roughly, before peppering kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. He stops to take one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you cry out from the pleasure of it.

“Eij!”

He brings his body forward, guiding his cock towards your waiting pussy. You gasp as he smooths his thick member across your delicate, dripping entrance. “You make the prettiest sounds.” He coos, continuing to flex his hips to that you feel his length move against you.

You think he’s about to push inside when he pauses, his cockhead twitching against your entrance delightfully. “Can we do it now, though? Will it hurt the baby?” He says, concern tinting his husky voice.

“I did some research – yeah, we’re fine. Keep going.” You groan out, scooting your hips forward and trying to coax him inside.

“So impatient for me to cum inside you again, ain’t ya?” Eijiro taunts, rubbing his cock back and forth against your vulva. “You sure there’s room for one more in there?”

“God yes. Just fuck me already, Kiri!” You pout, straining to get closer to him.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says before easing into you. Despite your assurance that the baby would be fine, he still takes extra care as he slides into place. He pauses to let you adjust to his size, but after a moment or two you’re off to the races.

“Jeez, babe…I forgot how damn good it feels to fuck your pussy raw. I can feel you, so tight around me. Fuckkkk.” He takes it slow, shifting his hips softly so that you can feel every inch of his hard cock as it slips and slides within you. You relax into it, your cunt stretching to slowly to accommodate his size. After all these years together, you know each other so well that fucking feels like bliss. You can just relax into it and let him take the lead.

After a few moments of gentle fucking to let you get comfortable, he makes sure you have a secure hold on him. He scoops you up and, cock still lodged deep within you, he gets to his feet. This is one of the things you love about your big, himbo boyfriend – he’s strong enough to be able to fuck you in any position and he can lift you up with absolutely zero effort. His palms flatten under your ass cheeks so he can bounce you up and down and you mewl, leaning your face into his hard chest. Your legs are wrapped around his thick body. He’s so muscular and wide that you have trouble keeping steady. It feels so incredibly good to have him intertwined with you like this, you have to remind yourself to keep your arms wrapped around his neck.

“You like that baby?” He gasps between thrusts. “You like it when I stand and deliver?”

“Oh God yes. Keep on deliverin’.” You slur, enjoying every sensation. He chuckles and obliges, supporting all of your weight in his hands as he continues to move. After a few minutes of this, you can tell he’s getting close by the way he starts squeezing your ass and speaking nonsense.

“You’re my girl, you know that? My absolute number one perfect babe.” His breath hitches as his cock almost slides out completely but he manages to guide it back into you without incident.

“Sit down, Kiri. I wanna ride you.” You whine, kissing his sweat covered collarbone.

“Alright, babe. Whatever you want.” He turns and slowly brings you both down to the couch. You know he’s got a fuck ton of stamina from being a Pro Hero, but standing and fucking has definitely caused him to work up a sweat. You can see that he’s grateful to be back on the couch. He leans back and his back sinks into the comfy backrest of the sofa, and he brings his hands up from your ass to rest on your hips.

“Go on, baby.” He coaches. “Show me how good you are at riding this fat cock.”

You slide your legs down and settle so that you’re straddling him, and bring your hands low to rest on his strong, beefy chest. You lock eyes with him as you slowly raise your hips, bringing yourself up high enough so that his cock is barely inside of you. He watches you with eyes so full of love and attention that it almost takes your breath away. You circle your hips in the air, the head of his cock rolling around your folds before you slam back down on his member, sheathing him in one fowl swoop.

“Damn. Fuck. Y/N.” He throws his head back in ecstasy and grips your hips so hard you’re sure they’ll bruise. “Christ you treat me so well.”

You continue to ride him at a near brutal pace. His breaths become shallow as he chases his high, sure to burst at any moment.

“Fuck! Wait – hold on.” He squeezes your hips and you come to a stop, puzzled. He bites his lip as he glances down between you at your stomach. “I wanna make this last. We’re celebrating, after all.”

You grin. “What do you have in mind, Eij?”

“Climb off of me and come sit on my face. Let me eat you out for a while.” He smiles at you, reaching out with his thumb to smooth a bead of sweat off your brow.

“You sure?

“The way I see it, once the baby starts growing it might get harder for you to climb on top of me. So let’s clock as much face fucking time for you as we can before that happens.” He says eagerly, taking a few moments to circle your clit with the pad of his thumb.

“Eij…you’re such a sweetie pie.” You tweak his nose as you move to get off his dick. He watches you rise up off of his cock, and he moans a little at the loss of contact as he slides out of your pussy.

“Don’t worry.” You say, kissing him on the cheek. “You’ll be back in there before you know it.”

He smiles as he helps you to your feet. “I know, its just feels so damn good to be inside you without a condom, anytime I have to pull out its torture. I keep forgetting that we can do this all the time now.” He lays down across the couch and gets comfortable, placing a pillow beneath his shoulder blades. “Alright, sweetheart. Come up and take a seat.”

Your clit absolutely throbs in anticipation as you climb up on top of him, straddling his face in a position that’s become so familiar. He wraps his arms around your legs and guides you down, swiping his tongue across your pussy with practiced skill.

“Oh, God, Kiri…” You groan, relaxing into it. He drags his tongue across your clit and down to your core, gripping your legs tightly to hold you in place as he takes you apart one lick at a time. You grind your hips back and forth lightly, shimmying against him in a move that probably looks more silly than pornographic. You don’t care, though – it gets the job done. You let him bring you to the brink of orgasm with his mouth alone, gasping as he sucks on your sensitive clit for what feels like hours. When your legs start to shake, it’s a surefire sign that you’re about to tip over the edge.

“Babeee.” You whine as you get close. “Wanna cum on your cock.”

Eijiro stops what he’s doing and says in a muffled voice “You’re so impatient, sweetheart.” You grind against his face in reply, and he laughs. He helps you climb off of him, your legs still shaky and uncoordinated.

You let yourself rest for a moment, taking deep, steadying breaths. You look up at your hero - his gelled up hair is now disheveled and out of place. He’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smiling at you. “Eating you out is one of my favorite hobbies, babe.”

You giggle. “Is it nice to be having sex while everyone else is at work?” You ask, laughing as he easily flips you over onto your belly.

“It is a nice break from a stressful job, yeah.” Eijiro gets behind you, finally pulling the dress down and off your body so that it’s no longer hiked up in a heap around your middle. He lays it delicately on the back of the couch. “Can’t have anything happening to my favorite outfit.” He explains as he smooths out the fabric.

He puts a large hand on your back and slides it up towards your shoulder blades, adding some slight pressure to encourage you to get down on your elbows. He hauls your ass up towards him and settles himself behind you.

“You ready?” He asks, sliding his cock along your folds, using his split and your slick as lube.

“Y-yeah.” You breathe out, body buzzing with anticipation. “Go for it.”

He glides back into you, doggy style. This is your favorite position, as it allows his big cock to hit just the right spot deep inside you. Once again, Eijiro takes it slow. He braces one hand on your hips, the other on your stomach. He spreads his fingers wide against your belly, protective. You know he’s distracted – half of his thoughts are no doubt on the baby and all that it means for the two of you.

He makes love to you like this for quite a while - enjoying the feel of your bare pussy around his cock, reveling in every sigh and moan he can goad from your pretty mouth.

“Kiriii.” You whine, fed up with this slow and easy pace. “Faster, baby.”

He smirks down at you, releasing your hip for a moment so he can deliver a light smack to your ass. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

He picks up his pace, fucking you with practiced skill. He maneuvers his hips in a way that allows him to go deep, concentrating all of his energy on one singular point. When the tip of his cock hits your cervix, you splutter out endless praise.

“Fuck, yes Eij. Fuck fuck fuck, keep going.”

And he does – he hits the same delicious spot over and over and over. You’re overwhelmed with the pleasure of it all, tears coming to your eyes as you feel heat start to pool in your belly. Your legs are shaking beneath you, and you know that the only reason you’re still able to stay in this position is because Kirishima’s strong arms are holding you in place.

“You wanna cum for me, sweetheart?” Eijiro hisses between clenched teeth, concentrating on keeping his pace consistent as he pistons his dick into you. “You look so pretty when you’re all riled up and desperate for my cock like this.”

“Ah – Eij!” You cry out as your pussy flutters around him, you cum hard and fast. Stars dance behind your eyes as your body squeezes and tries to milk Eijiro’s cock.

“Woah – fuck babe!” He cries out in surprise, not expecting such a forceful orgasm from you. Your pussy feels like absolute heaven around him, and the way your walls squeeze and pull at him causes him to lose himself. He cries out when he cums, ropes of hot, sticky sperm shooting deep inside you. If you weren’t already pregnant, this particular fucking certainly would have given you a run for your money.

“Fuck babe. I’m gonna fuck another baby into you.” He’s groaning nonsense as he rides out his orgasm, head thrown back and hands gripping you desperately. The overstimulation of it all has you feeling full, complete.

With a few final pumps, he’s spent. He slowly pulls out of you, marveling at the gooey creampie he’s left in his wake.

“Babe…this is insanely hot.” He says, bringing a finger up to push his seed back inside of you. You groan at the contact, overstimulated from cumming so damn hard.

“Kiri stoppp, I need a minute.” You collapse into the couch, rolling over onto your back and shuddering as you try to catch your breath. Eijiro joins you, leaning back into the couch cushions and staring up at the ceiling in ecstasy.

“We should fuck like that all the time.” He says, eyes sliding closed with exhaustion. Between last night’s fight, today’s work, and this afternoon’s physical activity – he’s spent. “God, I love you.”

“Love you too, Eij.” You coo, you feel yourself slipping towards sleep.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet.” You feel the couch cushions rise up around you as Eijiro gets up and onto his feet. “We gotta clean you up first.”

You hear the floorboards creak as he pads his way back to your tiny bathroom. Distantly, you hear him turn the faucets of your tub as he starts to draw a bath. You let yourself drift off for a few moments, content with your lot in life. You’ve got the best boyfriend in the world, and now you get to have his child. What could be better? You doze.

You startle awake when you feel Eijiro lift you off the couch and into his arms. You rest your head against his bare chest and hear his heartbeat against the shell of your ear. The steady rhythm is music to your ears, and you snuggle into him as much as you can. You hear him chuckle as he carries you off towards the bathroom.

“Babe…I think that maybe we should think about telling the press about us. What with the baby and all…I want to keep you safe, but I don’t want people to think that I just knocked you up with a secret love child or something. Not very manly.” He pauses, sucking in a breath. “And as for the safety part…maybe I can train you up a bit, show you ways to use your quirk to defend yourself. I can’t always be around to protect you, but you’re strong. And I know you’re capable of protecting yourself.”

These words jolt you fully awake. “You mean that, Eijiro?” Then you add teasingly: “Being my Baby Daddy changed your mind?” Eijiro chuckles at this new title in a way that tells you he’s elated to be your “baby daddy.”

“Of course I mean it, babe. If anyone can figure all of this shit out, it’s the two of us. Ya know?”

“Yeah, I know.” You say, your brain whirring to process all that he’s said. “But I don’t mind keeping our private life private. This baby. This family – it’s ours, and no one else’s. Fuck what the public thinks.”

“I guess we have a lot to talk about.” He says, finally coming to a stop in the steamy bathroom. “But we don’t need to figure it all out right this moment.”

You look up at his strong, handsome face and bring a hand up to trace his jawline.

“You’re so beautiful, Eij.” He blushes at the compliment, flustered. You know he loves being called things like “manly” and “handsome,” but he has a weak spot for softer compliments as well. Your himbo boyfriend loves to be admired softly, loves your gentle praise. “You’re so sweet and good to me.”

“Heh, does this mean that you’re gonna change your phone background back to a pic of me instead of John Wick?” Eijiro leans down to plant a kiss on your temple.

You stifle a laugh. “Yeah, I guess. If it would make ya happy.”

“It would.” He kisses you again. “You ready for a bath, sweetheart? I can do most of the work if you’re too tired.” You nod at him, eyes half lidded. You’re so damn sleepy. You feel like you just had a whole body workout and then some.

Slowly, sweetly, Eijiro lowers you into the bathtub. He moves slowly, letting you get used to the water as you sink down into it. The temperature is perfect – not too cool, not too scathingly hot. Eijiro knows you so well, down to your perfect water temperature. Your bum hits the bottom of the tub and you sit up, surprised at the mountains of bubbles towering around your head.

“I got a little carried away with the bubble bath mix.” He says, cupping some of the frothy suds in his hands and blowing them across the bathroom. You look at him lovingly – he’s going to make such a good dad.

You look up at him, grinning. You blow some bubbles in his direction before gesturing for him to join you.

“Get in here, Eij. There’s plenty of room for a family of three.”

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97keanu · 1 year

Note

hey! you could write with john wick coming home to find his wife in the garden with the "garden boy" who clearly likes her but she doesn't realize it. i imagine john being subtle and quiet with his jealousies, nothing too scandalous but serious and direct. fluffly, please and thank you so much 🩷

*˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳I loved this idea so much! I hope you like it, feel free to ask for any expanding drabbles of these two <3

Jealous!John Wick x Naive!Reader

Tags: john is jealous, reader is naive about his jealousies, gardener def has a crush but would rather quit than act on it with john always around, age gap mention, lower class reader in a rich world, possessive john, protective john, primal john

Summer was dying, August dragging out the heat of July, telling the world it was unready to leave just yet. And you, well, you were enjoying the last of the long days, the time when sunset went on for ages, and burned in the sky a blazing orange over your backyard. You always loved the sun, how it turned everything golden each evening, and how it kissed your skin with its heat.

You were barely breaking a sweat, laying out by the pool while the gardener worked on the bushes. He was young. More around your age than your husband John. Which was nice sometimes, when you got to converse with him, both because of his age, and like you he wasn't from a wealthy background. It kept you a bit more grounded while the life of luxury continued on around you, it was nice to confide in him.

Unfortunately, what you never noticed was the gardeners wandering eyes. Even now, as you lay out in your bikini, eyes closed and skin happy to drink up the suns rays, he can't help but to watch you. If you asked the gardener about it, he would never admit to his little crush on you. As much as that would be unprofessional of him, he also has no interest in messing with his employer, John Wick. There were rumors, you know, about John coming home, bruised and bloody, a painting of struggle on his skin, the smell of gunpowder on his suit. The gardner has even caught a glimpse before, and watched as you greet your husband as a source of safety and comfort. No one asked why it was that John came home in such a state, but everyone knew, and because of that, the gardener would never pursue you. He would remain a healthy confidant, easing your worries in the world of the rich, and letting you keep in touch with the world outside the private neighborhood.

The gardener still steals a look or two while he thinks he can get away with it. His headphones buzz with music, drowning out the weed whacker as well as much of his own thoughts. He idly appreciated your body and your beauty from afar, before his stomach drops. He felt for only a moment that he was the one being watched now, and when his eyes flicker up, he meets a set of dark, dangerous eyes. John has entered the backyard, likely in search of his wife, who is currently enjoying the last days of summer. The most frightening part is how close he is, the gardner had no idea that John had snuck up behind him, and now he feels the trail of sweat down his back running cold.

Instead of finding his wife, John sees this man, who he pays handsomely to do work John has no time for, drooling over his wife. The gardener quickly looks away, trying to be busy with work, but the feeling of John's gaze never leaves his back. He starts to feel sweaty for reasons besides the burning August heat, and does everything he can to stop from looking over his back once more. There was just something about John that scared him to his core, and he felt he should trust that feeling if he were to survive.

Unfortunately for the gardener, John isn't finished. He feels John remove one of his ear buds, the man now so close he can smell John's expensive taste in cologne.

"I don't pay you to eye fuck my wife." John growls out, assertive and serious.

"N-no, of course not, Mr. Wick…" The gardener quickly tries to find his way out of this mess, John's cold eyes are enough to scare him away from looking at you for a good long while.

"Good. I suggest you go home for the night." John maintains professionalism always, but the thoughts running through his head tell a different story. The gardener can practically see these thoughts and takes John's suggestion, quickly moving away to pack up.

Meanwhile, you don't even know this interaction has happened, eyes closed lightly, sunglasses blocking out the sun. It isn't until John's lips kiss and whisper against your cheek, that you realize your husband is home for the day. Your eyelids flutter open, happy to see his dark form against the dulling blue sky. He looks at you with a small fire in his eyes, and you have no idea he is trying to show off while he continues to kiss down your neck.

He's halfway to your breast, maybe more, when you glimpse the gardener beginning to pack up in a haste, and gently pull John away, for modesty if anything. You notice the gardener refuses to look in your direction and wonder why.

"John, wait…" You say softly, and John let's out a small noise of annoyance that his lips must be pulled from your soft skin.

"What's wrong?" His voice is low, gruff.

"Let's wait until…" Your eyes finish your sentence, looking towards the gardener once more. John scoffs when he sees where your gaze is going.

"What? I'm not allowed to lay claim to you in front of the staff?" He says, almost arrogantly. You aren't exactly surprised, John has always been protective, if not possessive. You don't mind it much, in fact sometimes it even turned you on how primal he could be about it. But you also thought you had tamed his jealousy regarding the gardener months ago.

"You don't have to claim me, John, I'm already yours…" You say with a smirk, kissing right under his well kept beard. John seems to be calmed for the moment by your words, and while he enjoys your kiss, the gardner slips away for the night, safe once again for now.

John's eyes open when your lips leave his neck, and he looks down at you, perplexed.

"Why'd you stop…?" He breathes out, voice already dripping, husky with want. You smirk, and stand from where you were sun tanning, taking his hand and pulling him to the house.

#john wick x f!reader #john wick drabble #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fan fic #lila speaks #ask lila #keanu reeves #my writing #••• ◛ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵐᵃⁱˡ!

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thewhumpcaretaker · 2 months

Note

ok ok ok your sub! john drabbles actually gave me the best idea. tattoo artist x john wick

tattoo artist reader is there to comfort him and make sure he’s okay and doesn’t pass out esp if it’s his first tattoo.

also writing this made me remember a fic i read that’s not finished but breaks my heart

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21060659/chapters/50100092 if you want to read 🖤

Thank you so much for this ask!! I've been thinking about this idea for a while actually. There was another ask about this a long time ago, maybe on my JohnWickCaretaker blog? I can't find that one, but if that was also you, then thanks a second time. Also, yaaaaay, fic recommendation! 🖤

John Wick x Tattoo Artist Reader (Gender Neutral)

Author's Note: John is a little younger in this one (I’m picturing him being 18-19), so he’s not as mature. He’s even more shy and gets defensive more easily. Also, I'm not a tattoo artist, and haven't gotten any tattoos, so this is just based on what I've read about it!

CW: forced to get a tattoo, tattoo needle, crying, reader swears frequently, bittersweet ending

Image sources: 1 2 3

“You have time for a walk-in?”

You didn’t even hear this guy open the door. Once you’re done being startled, you notice…him. You’re not supposed to let yourself think this way about clients, but shit, he’s cute. He looks soft. Mostly clean shaven, with a thin, elegant face (maybe it’s the high cheekbones), topped off with a mop of dark hair. And probably inexperienced, based on how nervous he looks. A little part of you wonders how this is going to go for him. “You’re in luck. What’s your name?”

No answer.

“Can I see an ID?”

He hesitates awkwardly. “I’m coming from Mrs. Petrov.”

Oh. So he’s one of these. You doubt that’s her real name, but Mrs. Petrov sailed into your shop one day offering to double the usual price if you’d keep quiet and ask no questions, and you sure need the money. Your skin is crawling a bit but you take a deep breath and get into it.

“Okay, good enough for me. What design are we looking at?”

He hands you a paper. It’s the same one you’ve seen half a dozen times: hands touching in prayer over an image of the cross. Guys come to you for this tat again and again, “from Mrs. Petrov.” One told you it was a mark of his acting troupe, another said it was a family crest, another a symbol of his church. They’re probably all lying, but you know better than to call them on it – or to turn any of them away. You’re pretty sure it’s a mob thing. It breaks your heart a little bit to think he’s caught up in all that. He doesn’t look the part. But then, you also know better than to judge by looks alone.

You gesture to the chair. “Settle in, face down. It’s better if we have your shirt off.” He’s way too delicious underneath it. The perfect canvas...shhhhh stop it. You’re a professional and he’s…god knows what. “This will take about four or five hours. Is that okay?”

He nods.

“Silent type I guess?”

That gets a faint smile before he lays across the bench, chin resting on folded arms. You flip the Open sign to Closed, pull on your gloves, and start prepping tools. You turn on the radio to 80s rock, filling the silence between you - though it doesn’t feel like a stressful silence, surprisingly. Both of you know how odd this situation is and you’re both just trying to get through it. There’s a camaraderie to that.

You glance down at the design in your hand and whistle. It’s pretty big, taking up most of the center of his back, between the scapulas. “Is this your first tattoo?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, well I’ll be real with you: this is going right over the spine, so you can expect some pain. Nothing that’ll kill you, just…not super pleasant. So I’ll check in from time to time, see how you’re doing. If you need a break, we can take one.”

“I won’t.” He sounds pretty sure of that. Standing behind him, you shake your head. It’s always the ones that are so sure…

“Well, after a while, I’ll need one.” You run disinfecting wipes over the center of his back and set to work. When the needle touches down for the first time, he winces once, but he doesn’t wince again for the next ten minutes of linework. It takes you that long to realize that he’s barely breathing. “Your muscles are tense, buddy. I need you to relax for me or this will hurt more.”

“…I just…don’t want to move.” There’s something so sweet about the way he says it.

“You won’t move. You’re actually less likely to shake if you can let yourself go totally limp, like you would if you were about to fall asleep. Here, sit up for a second, take a deep breath, and stretch out.” He listens, but he’s not looking at you. You’re pretty sure he’s blushing.

“Okay. I’m relaxed.” Liar. You can still feel the knots in his muscles when you touch him again. But at least it’s a little better than before, and he’s getting impatient. “Keep going.”

Well, the customer is always right. “Alright, let’s do it.” You grab your pen and get back into place. The best you can do is try to distract him. “How did you choose this tattoo anyway?” Might as well see what story this one will make up.

“I didn’t.” That’s probably the truest answer you’ve heard so far.

“Do you…like it?” God, you hope so.

“Not really.”

“…You’re telling me I’m putting something on your body right now that you don’t want there?”

“No,” he says, a little too quickly. “Forget it.”

That’s probably for the best anyway. You’ll get too pissed off if you keep going down this line of questioning. You take a deep breath and try for something lighter. “So what do you, uh…do for fun?”

“Reading, mostly.”

“Oh, sweet. You read anything good lately?”

“Kind of. I’m reading Anna Kerenina.” He slips into a faint accent when he says it, and you have a suspicion.

“What translation?”

“Just the Russian.” He sounds a little annoyed, like you caught him out on something. You suppose you did, and it was kind of fun.

“Bilingual. That’s badass.”

“Thanks.” There’s silence again for a minute, but it feels friendlier.

“So what do you think of it?”

“It’s...fine.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Yeah, it’s kind of dry.”

“I guess, but I don’t mind that. I just don’t like Anna and Vronsky. Which is Tolstoy’s whole point, but…”

“They’re both little shits to everyone. Makes it hard to get invested.”

“Right, exactly.” He shifts his chin. “If I was married, I can’t imagine cheating.” From some people, a line like that would sound like a transparent attempt to come across as a “nice guy.” But he says it so wistfully, you know he means it.

Don’t say what you’re about to say. Don’t say it. Be professional.

…Fuck it, you’re doing this under the table anyway. “Are you dating anybody?”

“No.” It sounds so bitter that, for a second, you think you really are dealing with a nice-guy-impersonator. But then he clarifies. “My…lifestyle doesn’t allow for that.”

“Oh.” You can’t think of any way to reply that doesn’t involve the burning questions in your mind about what exactly this “lifestyle” entails. So you lapse into silence again, for much longer this time, just thinking, wondering what it’s like to be one of these young men with the cross tattoos. Are they all friends with each other? What exactly do they do? Is it difficult? How does it pay? How did they get into it?

You stop when you’re done with the linework. “Okay, that went great! We’re totally done with the outlines, which is half the battle. I’m going to take a break before we start on the shading.” You circle around in front of him to grab your water bottle, and catch a glimpse of his face as he’s straightening up.

He’s wiping off silent tears.

Your heart almost drops out of your chest. “Oh shit. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, but it sounds hoarse and shaky. “Just hurt more than I expected.” He huffs a laugh, trying to play the whole thing off as unimportant.

“Dude, I told you we can take breaks if you need. If you’re crying from pain, you’re too tensed up. Tell me next time, alright?” Before you realize what you’re doing, you’re rubbing his shoulder. He freezes for a second, and you pull back. “Sorry, I – I didn’t mean to – “

“No, it’s okay. I’m just not used to that.”

“Damn, how do they treat you at Mrs. Petrov’s place?” You’re half joking, but you want to know more and more by the second. And when he just looks grave and doesn’t answer, your heart does that weird dropping thing again.

“…Let me get you a water, okay? I’ll be right back.” You’re grateful for the short walk to the mini fridge you keep in the back of the parlor. It feels so heavy in that room. You’re starting to wish you hadn’t taken the deal, because whatever this is, you don’t want to be involved.

When you come back, he’s perfectly composed again, but looking at you more carefully this time, like he’s finally really seeing you. After he takes a drink of water, he hesitates for a second. “My name is Jardani.”

Warmly, “Nice to meet you.” You take the bottle back and set it on the table, within reach. “You’ll tell me if you get overwhelmed next time?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’m trusting you.”

You watch him settle in and get back to work. It’s okay at first but there’s a dark shadow under those praying hands that needs to go right over his spine. It’s basically pure black. A couple minutes into it, he exhales sharply, like he’d been holding his breath for a while. “Stop.”

You set your pen down right away. “You got it.” You pull up a chair next to him and he turns to look at you, without sitting up. He’s really pale. “How are you feeling?”

“Lightheaded.”

“Yeah, you can pass out if you get tense like that for too long. But you’re okay. We can take as long as you need.” You put your hand on his shoulder again, massaging it, and this time, he lets you. You can feel some of the tension finally seep away and the color returns to his cheeks. The dark pools of his eyes are fixed on yours, and if you aren’t careful, you feel like you could fall into them and drown. There’s something trapped in cold waters down there, pleading for rescue.

Yeah, sure. If you were being unprofessional before, now you’re being a downright sentimental fool. This guy has probably shot people.

Despite being deep and rumbling, his voice sounds so quiet that it’s almost shy. “You don’t know what this means to me, to have a…nice moment... Thank you.”

“Oh – you’re welcome. It’s nothing, really.” You’re absolutely done for. “Um, do you want to stand up and stretch before we get back at it?”

“Mm-hm.”

Your brain is fried but you manage to hold it together while the both of you get back into position. The rest of the session goes pretty smoothly, and you talk a little more here and there. At first it’s just about how he should take care of this thing when it’s finished – staying out of the sun and all that. But then he starts to ask you about yourself - what you read, how you got into tattooing, your favorite designs. Everything you say seems to interest him. You can’t quite believe it but he’s obviously developing a crush on you. Or at least getting attached in some way. You can’t blame him, if the smallest friendly touch is such a foreign concept.

It's too soon when you place the finishing touches. “Okay! You want to take a look?” You help him up, his hand resting in yours for an instant as he slides off the bench, stiff and probably aching. It sends a jolt straight to your heart, to support some fraction of his weight and to feel the way his fingers squeeze down on yours before letting go. You mourn the contact instantly, and distract yourself by adjusting the two mirrors that reflect into each other, allowing him to see his back. “What do you think?”

“It does look cool actually.” He cracks a little heart-melting smile, and you’re really relieved. He may not have wanted it, but at least he’s not devastated.

“’Course it does, it was done by the best in the business,” you joke. Though to be honest, you really are impressed with your handiwork. Doing the same tattoo so many times pays off – each one has looked more polished than the last. It’s almost a shame to see him put his shirt back on…for multiple reasons.

“Oh, uh…” He fishes something out of his pocket. A wad of hard cash – a LOT of it, as usual. “Here’s the payment.” And then he’s leaving, before you can do anything, say anything, even catch the breath you’d lost trying to comprehend everything that just happened.

“Hey, wait!” You don’t really know what you’re going to say, but then he’s facing you again and you have to say something, and it just comes out. “…Do you need help? I don’t know what’s going on, but look, I’m not an idiot. I know something’s wrong here. I don’t know who Mrs. Petrov really is and I don’t care, but if you need me to do something, like…I don’t know, call a social worker or something or help you get transport out of the city...” Your voice falters. You have no idea what he’d need and even less idea how to provide it without getting both of you killed. And what if you’ve misread the whole situation? What if you’re completely out of line?

It certainly looks that way. It’s like a switch flips in him. “No. Whatever you do, don’t fucking try anything. It’s none of your business.” It’s the coldest he’s sounded. “You won’t see me again.” The door slams behind him.

You brace a hand against the counter behind you, shaking. How could you be so stupid, honestly. This emotional roller coaster isn’t worth it. You wish you’d never seen Mrs. Petrov, let alone this Jardani with his damn pain-soaked eyes and cornered-dog behavior. There’s something awful going on, and you can’t do anything about it, you’re just making it worse. If you can get out of this deal, you have to, even if it means getting out of the city. Maybe out west - San Francisco sounds nice this time of year.

You’re just putting yourself back together and trying to decide what the hell you’re gonna do when the door flings open again and he storms back though it, stopping short right in front of you. For a second, you just stare at each other, breathing hard. Then he catches the flash of foolish happiness in your eyes at seeing him again and musters his nerves.

And he. Fucking. Kisses. You. Forcefully, with his strong hands gripping your arms and his teeth colliding with yours, pulling, desperate, rebellious, like he’s trying to tell you something he’s not allowed to say. You’re pretty sure it’s, “Thank you. For being one of the few people who cared.”

And then he’s gone again, and this time, you can feel it: he’s never coming back.

#john wick #john wick fanfic #john wick x reader #john wick tattoo #john wick whumpee #soft john wick #tattoo whump #angst #wickblr

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r1-jw-lover · 1 year

Text

Official John Wick Major Arcana tarot cards featuring Chapter 4 characters

Art by Julien Rico Jr, in collaboration with Lionsgate.

Sources: nerdsloveart, behance

Image descriptions below the cut:

[Start ID: 22 images featuring characters and locations from the movie "John Wick: Chapter 4" as Major Arcana tarot cards. The drawings are in black and white against a sandy beige background, and has plenty of circle motives. Roman numerals are at the top, their corresponding card title at the bottom, and the movie title "John Wick: Chapter 4" on the bottom left margin.

0: The number zero, or unnumbered, tarot card features Killa Harkan played by Scott Adkins as "The Fool". Killa is holding a 2 of spades between two fingers while giving a smug smile that shows off his set of golden teeth. He wears a ring on his right hand and the other hand is holding a stack of cards. Behind Killa is a minimalistic design resembling a casino token with details such as the diamond and clover symbols, as well as the numbers on the dice. In front of Killa is a table with two piling stacks of casino tokens, a gun, and the shadow of John Wick's head looming over a large portion of the table.

1: The number one tarot card features The Tracker or Mr. Nobody played by Shamier Anderson as "The Magician". Mr. Nobody has a smug expression on his face and is holding his rifle in a way that lets it rest slung over his shoulder. By his side is Mr. Nobody's Belgian Malinois. The backdrop consists of simplistic, grayish graphics of map vectors cropped into several circles of different sizes. There is a white-coloured infinity symbol on top of Mr. Nobody's head.

2: The number two tarot card features Rooney, aka The Ballerina, who first appeared in "John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum", as "The High Priestess". Rooney's back is facing towards us as she's performing a ballet move on a circular stage. Rooney is wearing a white crown and a dress that shows the cross tattoo on her back. In the backdrop, where Rooney's face is looking towards, are curtains with the initials "JW" written on the far ends of the frame.

3: The number three tarot card features Katia played by Natalia Tena as "The Empress". With a cool expression on her face, Katia is leaning forward against a set of railings, giving off a domineering aura. Katia is wearing a metallic necklace and a cross on her neck. Behind Katia is the crest of the Ruska Roma and a line in Russian circling around it.

4: The number four tarot card features The Bowery King played by Laurence Fishburne as "The Emperor". The Bowery King is sitting on a throne, but behind him is a pair of eyes staring menacingly at us. In front of him is a logo design with the same pair of eyes, though rendered smaller and appear less menacing, with an X crossed in between and a horizontal line capping the top of the X. At the Bowery King's feet, a few pigeons are shown in the foreground while the Brooklyn Bridge appear in the background.

5: The number five tarot card features The Elder as "The Hierophant". Behind the Elder is an Islamic floral design which extends into a more geometrical pattern. Standing in the background are two of the Elder's men.

6: The number six tarot card features John and Helen Wick, played by Keanu Reeves and Bridget Moynahan, as "The Lovers". John and Helen are smiling brightly towards each other in front of a New York night cityscape backdrop, with the Empire States building separating them at the centre. Above John and Helen is a silhouette of them pressed against each other about to kiss in front of a bright sun with the Brooklyn bridge in the background.

7: The number seven tarot card features John Wick driving his 1971 Plymouth Barracuda as "The Chariot". There is a bullet mark on the front glass pane of John Wick's car. On top is a closeup of John Wick surrounded by a circle of road markings and bullet marks.

8: The number eight tarot card features Charon played by Lance Reddick as "Strength". On top of Charon's head is the infinity symbol, and behind is a design reminiscent of a timepiece neatly decorated with knives, guns and bullets in a circle. Further behind is a faded image of the reverse side of the Gold Coin. Filling the bottom of the frame is the New York cityscape backdrop illuminated by the sun.

9: The number nine tarot card features Caine played by Donnie Yen as "The Hermit". Caine wears sunglasses and is holding a cane in his left hand and a pistol in his right. Caine's head is illuminated by a circle of bright light, which is surrounded by a dimmer, slightly bigger circle with Japanese wave patterns and then large protruding rays of black. In the backdrop are two winding trees along with a city landscape of Osaka, but they are overshadowed by Caine's black rays.

10: The number ten tarot card features L’Arc de Triomphe as "The Wheel of Fortune". The location is illustrated in such a way that looks like a clock, with the monument at the centre and twelve roads leading towards it. Surrounding the Arc de Triomphe are the letters from John Wick's name arranged in the exact order of north-west, north-east, south-west, south-east, west, north, east and south directions.

11: The number eleven tarot card features The Harbinger played by Clancy Brown as "Justice". The whole illustration is framed as if the Harbinger is contained inside an hourglass, with a half-body portrait of the Harbinger at the top and a full-body silhouette of him forming at the bottom from the sand flowing downwards. Behind the Harbinger's portrait is the Latin quote, "si vis pacem, para bellum", whereas next to the Harbinger's silhouette is a crescent moon. Along the sides of the hourglass outside are two duel pistols facing opposite directions on each side.

12: The number twelve tarot card features Koji Shimazu played by Hiroyuki Sanada as "The Hanged Man". Except for his feet, Koji is portrayed as an vertically-inverted reflection of himself on a pool of water. Koji is holding a katana and his head is surrounded by a circle of dim light and a brighter, slightly larger circle made of Japanese wave patterns. As seen in the reflection, behind him are cherry blossom trees and the Osaka city landscape.

13: The number thirteen tarot card features John Wick, aka the Baba Yaga, played by Keanu Reeves as "Death". John Wick is holding a pair of nunchucks in his right hand. Behind John Wick is a city landscape of Osaka lighted by the moon while his head is surrounded by a row of skull pictograms and two rows of bullets. There is also an faded image of the reverse side of the Gold Coin behind John Wick.

14: The number fourteen tarot card features Winston played by Ian McShane as "Temperance". Winston is holding up a wine glass with a capital C labelled on it, and there are multiple swords projecting from his back like wings. Behind Winston is the hotel name "Continental" and numerous halos of various fonts and patterns, along with the cityscape of New York, with the Statue of Liberty and the Empire States building in sight.

15: The number fifteen tarot card features The Marquis, Vincent Bisset de Gramont, played by Bill Skarsgård as "The Devil". Behind the Marquis is his signature emblem with two black knives crossed behind his head. The emblem is surrounded by two rows of knives. In the background is the night cityscape of Paris with the Eiffel Tower in view, illuminated by a moon that is surrounded by a snake or serpent that's chasing its own tail.

16: The number sixteen tarot card features the New York Continental Hotel as "The Tower". The top floors of the Continental Hotel are being set on fire as the small dark silhouette of John Wick and the debris carried along fall from its rooftop.

17: The number seventeen tarot card features Akira played by Rina Sawayama as "The Star". Illuminating behind Akira is a star resembling a six-pointed shuriken with two Japanese stork paintings on its left and right, which is further surrounded by a circle of alternating arrow fletchings and four-pointed shuriken. Akira is holding a bow and arrow and standing tall as the bodies of two men lie dead around her. In the background are the branches of cherry blossom trees and the sun or moon shining behind Akira.

18: The number eighteen tarot card features John Wick's and Mr. Nobody's dogs as "The Moon". The two dogs are staring up at the crescent moon, which is shaped as if John Wick's head is covering portions of the full moon. Surrounding the crescent moon are small stars and a illustration of the cycle of the moon phases. The two dogs are sitting on a road leading into an ambiguous city landscape in the background.

19: The number nineteen tarot card features the Sacré-Coeur as "The Sun". The rays of the sun spread out far and wide as wisps of clouds drifts behind the giant church. A dark silhouette of John Wick can be seen on the top open window of the Sacré-Coeur.

20: The number twenty tarot card features Chidi played by Marko Zaror as "Judgement". Behind Chidi is the emblem of the Marquis with a black knife cutting across behind his head. Below Chidi are the High Table's heavily armoured soldiers who are backdropped by a big splatter of sandy beige.

21: The number twenty-one tarot card features John Wick as "The World". John Wick's back is facing towards us with his head glancing back, showing us his face. Overlayed on top of him is his surname "Wick" with the "I" replaced by a bright silhouette of a walking John Wick. A circle of bullets surrounds John Wick and bullet marks scatter around him as the emblems of the High Table, the Marquis, the Adjudicator, and the Gold Coin fill all four corners of the frame.

./End ID]

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boredzillenial · 1 year

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Day 3: of @flightlessangelwings fawktober!

King John upholds his scandalous reputation and takes what he wants.

Themes: DEAD DOVE - DNE, degradation through Exhibitionism, hurt no comfort, Dub-con/non-con, power imbalance, mentions of blushing, f!reader servant, pinv, creampie, oral f!receiving, cuckholding if you squint

A.N: I do not condone any of this - this is a safe place to explore kink and erotica as writers and readers, not beta read, cranked out in a couple hours when struck by inspiration, exhibitionism is not my usual thing so lemme know what y’all think!

Word count: 1267

You knew as you headed into the castle the reputation of your new master. That his beauty was the only thing to rival his cruelty.

You had hoped that keeping your head down, keeping quiet, and keeping out of the way would save you from his wicked nature. Your hopes were dashed on your first meeting.

He lay sprawled in bed, a concubine beside him and his cock laying limply across his stomach.

He sat up to watch you as you moved about the room, his length springing to life as he watched your figure move silently about the chamber.

You managed to get about halfway through your morning tasks before he slipped out of bed and came up behind you, rutting against the curve of your ass as you bent over. Your panic sent you reeling forward away from him as a wicked grin spread across his face.

“You’re a quiet one…” he observed, stepping closer. You shimmied out of the way and ran out of his chambers, catching your breath in the hall.

The next day you found his chambers empty, sighing with relief for a moment as you go about your chores. As you emptied a basin of water out of the window you felt him come up behind you again, pinning you against the stone windowsill.

You felt him lean forward, his breath fanning across the back of your neck as he murmured, “quiet girl, I’m gonna make you scream.”

He threw your skirts up around your waist and rutted against you, your body betraying you and soaking against the pressure of him sliding into you. He moved slowly at first, drawing out his movements to pull anything out of your throat more than a soft whimper.

He huffed and began to move faster after a few moments of failing to make you so much as groan. The sound of him slapping against you echoing in the stone chamber as you got your hand up to your mouth to stifle your cries.

“No!” He huffed as he yanked your arms behind you, using them as added leverage as he slammed harder. “Nothing still?” He growled and you grit your teeth together and swallowed as much noise as you could.

“I love a challenge.” He growled and kicked your feet apart. Adjusting his grip he held both your hands in one and with the other he snaked around finding your clit and circling roughly. You couldn’t fight your body’s urge to arch back as you cried out, the sound echoing in the street below. “That’s it!” He he laughed cruelly as he continued to pound into you, sending you reeling and your knees nearly buckling as he ripped your orgasm from you and planted his own deep in your channel.

By the time he was finished you clung to the windowsill and managed to keep your shaky legs under you. You glanced out of the window as you adjusted your skirts, seeing a couple of weary guards looking around for the source of the cries they’d just heard. Shame peppered your face pink as you ducked out of his chambers and continued about your day, his hot spend and your slick slowly trickling down your thighs.

You made yourself scarce the rest of the day, breathing a sigh of relief as you saw him ride out with most of his knights the following morning.

In the weeks he was gone, you grew close to a young knight he had left behind, well mannered, strong but soft spoken, and he had even made his intentions known to start courting you. You thought your luck had changed until one chilly morning you heard the distant thrum of hoofbeats. The King had returned…

You nervously helped carry food to the long ornate breakfast table. Praying that keeping with the cooks and his long travels would have him too tired to try anything.

You flinched and backed away as the doors to the hall slammed open. The King threw his helmet down as he stamped inside, grime and sweat from the road caked his armor as anger etched the contours of his face. “Out! All of you!” He shouted.

You courtesied and moved to leave with the other maidservants till you felt his grip on your wrist. “Not you.” He growled, pointing at the seat beside him.

You felt as if your heart was going to leap out of your throat as you sat beside him. He began tearing into the food laid before him. Taking a bite then throwing whatever he was holding aside. “No. No. No!” He threw his plate aside, “What the hell has happened to the cooks since I’ve been away.” He grumbled, his lips tilted in a wicked grin as he looked over to you. “Now, there’s a meal...”

You gulped as you tucked your legs tighter against one another. In one swift motion he hoisted you out if your chair onto the table. Pulling your legs apart and shoving your chest hard enough to press your back into the wood. He yanked you roughly toward him and locked his arms around your legs as he dove his face under your skirts. Nibbling and licking like a man starved, up your thighs to your center.

He licked and sunk his tongue deep into your cunt, drawing out the slickness and relishing in it. His low rumble and moans of pleasure vibrated through you and sent your mind into a haze. He truly was eating you for his own pleasure but you couldn’t help reaching the edge after many a night with only your own touch that left you unsatisfied.

“Your grace.” You heard someone’s voice clear as you looked to see some of his knights standing awkwardly in the doorway. Shame rushed through you like wildfire as you lay locked in the king’s grip.

He pulled his head out from under your skirts, eyes half lidded with lust and face soaked from your wetness. He drew a hand over his mouth and wiped some of your slickness on the ornate cloth lining the table. “Can’t you see I’m eating?” His tone a warning to the men awkwardly watching your horrified expression unfold.

You locked eyes with the knight you had been courting, cheeks blazing as you saw his hand reach for the pommel of his sword.

“And what, pray tell, do you think you’re doing.” John spat at the young knight. “Best you leave before I make you stay and watch me take what’s mine. And leave the door open on your way out!” He dove back under your skirts, this time biting up your supple thighs. Drawing yelps and cries from you to make his point known.

The young knight released his sword and stormed out along with the others. Leaving you sprawled across the table at John’s mercy. Weary eyes peaked in through the open doorway as the king had his fill of his choice of breakfast. Shuffling away quickly but their expressions would be plastered in your minds eye for weeks to come.

You had never come so hard or so many times as that morning, and John reinvigorated his cruel reputation as your overstimulation turned you into a twitching babbling mess sprawled across the table. Never stopping despite your pleas till he was fully satisfied. Once he was done he stood slowly, smiling down at the mess he’d made of you and glancing at the open door. “Be sure I start every morning like this.” He cooed as he leaned over you and wiped his face on your skirts.

—————————

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @lunar-ghoulie @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

#fawktober2023 #oscar isaac characters #Robin Hood king John #totally had his name as John the whole time #king john

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rampldgifs · 6 months

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COMMISSIONED ! click the source for 102 gifs of HALLE BERRY in JOHN WICK CHAPTER 3: PARABELLUM(2019). do not use in celebrity rps. please note that i do not approve of the 5+/- age rule. these were made from scratch and more will be added at my leisure, so please don’t edit, repost or claim as your own or i will eat you. tag me if you’re posting edited gif icons for public use. consider reblogging to spread poc options if useful. enjoy !

#halle berry #halle berry gif hunt #halle berry gif pack #gifsociety #gif hunt #underused fc #rph #poc fc #older fc #userdevon #fcxdirectory #mine.

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callmearcturus · 5 months

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okay so PC Gamer just scattered a bunch of catnip for me with an article about What If Each Fallout Game Were A Movie, Who Would Direct It and I am going to read this live and judge it

because I'm having a relapse, we all understand this

A focused, mature, pressure cooker of a movie that is short and stylishly violent? Better call the director of John Wick to take the directorial reigns. Personally, I find Leitch's movies tend to have rather underwhelming final acts, too, and also have a penchant for ending abruptly when you feel more could have followed, so he's the perfect fit for a game that's incredible until it very quickly ends without much fanfare. John Wick movies don't tend to be very wacky either, often depicting the hero's world as very serious (despite the ludicrous premise of the fiction), so again this feels a strong and apt choice for the OG Fallout. A Friday night action movie.

HMMMMMM. I feel like I disagree on the mode I would want FO1 to be in. Like, yes, you can play it that way, but FO1 is famously one of the first games to make Speech arguably the most important skill to have in a video game, so I dunno. I love Leitch and feel like while his sense of realistic-yet-stunning action is a trademark, I think the use of locations is even more of his thing, and when I think about memorable locations, I think more of FO2 than FO1.

I feel like I would give FO1 to some hyper-realistic scumbag who is more obsessed with Process than Enterta-- oh. Nolan. gdi I'd give FO1 to Chris fucking Nolan, him whomst I loathe.

Who better to direct this expansive and often wacky depiction of the Fallout universe than the director responsible for epics such as Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, 12 Monkeys, Brazil, The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, and The Man Who Killed Don Quixote? Gilliam loves a good road trip in his work, too, which fits with Fallout 2's Highwayman-based exploration, and his penchant for vast vistas with wacky and absurd details feels perfect. The combat scenes wouldn't be as slick as Leitch's Fallout movie, but characterisation and a more rambling, philosophical, off-beat narrative would deliver. Plus, Fallout 2 even has a Bridge Keeper encounter that directly references Monty Python and the Holy Grail, in which Gilliam starred. Watch on a Saturday night for a bit of everything.

......... I straight up cannot argue with that. No notes.

For a movie based on a game that is focussed almost entirely on squad-based combat in urban environments, combat where soldiers die in terrible ways and the horrors of war are all too apparent, I feel the director of The Hurt Locker, Kathryn Bigelow is perfect for this. Fallout: Tactics would be a war movie with a very tight focus and strong characterisation for just a handul of lead characters. Tense and at times adrenaline-inducing due to the flashes of extreme violence, but interspersed with soul-searching dialogue from its grizzled, war-scarred leads, this would be an erudite and focused Fallout war movie. Watch on a Monday or Tuesday night.

Looking at Bigelow's list of works is how I just now learned she also did Strange Days, so I think it's fair to say that this is giving her way too small of a pick. Give her FO1 and give Leitch FOT.

It would be so bad. Forget about A-bombs, everyone in the movie would drop an F-bomb every other line. Don't watch on any night.

Fucking weak-ass pick. Think about the history of how FO:BoS happened, i.e. they were trying to slap the Fallout license onto a completely different style of game without any respect for the source material. They swapped out Nuka Cola for Bawls product placement.

Give it to Zack Synder.

As the game that properly introduced V.A.T.S. system slow-mo to the Fallout universe, with kill shots shown off in glorious bullet time, there can be only one director for a film version of Fallout 3: the master himself, John Woo. Woo's stellar action movie work in titles such as Hard Boiled, Broken Arrow, Face/Off and Mission Impossible 2, among others, means the action in this game is off the charts. Slow-mo radiated doves and all! Woo handles the post-apocalypse war vibes well, too, thanks to his work on Windtalkers, while he communicates the hero's awakening into the future thanks to previous on Paycheck. A good fit for Friday night, thanks to the action, or midday during the weekend due to a longish, war movie-style runtime.

.....................

holy shit i cannot argue with that, that's genius. absolutely fucking yes. i think that's a perfect fit.

also, like, FO3 and Woo have the same "problem" for me, in that they know exactly what they are doing, it's just not my cup of tea, but there is a solid identity there.

yeah, fucking do it, give FO3 to John Woo.

SHUT THE FUCK UP

WHO WROTE THIS ARTICLE, AND DID THEY WRITE IT FROM MY FUCKING ATTIC?!

Casinos, gritty environments, extreme violence and heist movie vibes mean I think of Guy Ritchie for this film adaptation. Ritchie's also a fan of slow-mo combat shots, too, so we've got the game's V.A.T.S. system represented well, too, while the game's macho factional warfare as undertaken by factions like Caesar's Legion and the NCR, is right in keeping with Ritchie's love of gang-based conflict. There's not much romance in New Vegas, either, which is a weak spot for Ritchie, but as shown in movies like Sherlock Holmes, Snatch, The Gentleman, and Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, he's good at holding together movies with various interconnecting narratives. His work on Aladdin also shows he can handle the comedic and wacky aspects of New Vegas, too. A mid-week action-comedy treat.

/rubs face

I am unfortunately a massive fucking fan of Ritchie movies. this is so powerful.

i think........... Ritchie is so thoroughly uninterested in saying anything philosophically profound, you cannot give him The Most Profound Fallout Game. like, I want to love this idea, I really do, but no.

....................... You need someone with snappy dialogue that actually means something, who is willing to veer into borderline magical realism, who loves an overdressed set, and who can manage a lot of different characters with well-reasoned motivations.

I think you need Rian Johnson.

OR DO I JUST WANT RIAN JOHNSON TO MAKE A VERSION OF "DEAD MONEY" THAT DOESN'T SUCK? WHO COULD SAY.

I feel Ang Lee is a good choice for a Fallout 4 movie adaptation, having good form in handling large and sprawling fictions with plenty of characters and side-stories. Just look at films like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Life of Pi as an example of this. He's got some form with action, too, thanks to his work on Hulk. There's probably more romance/relationship offering in Fallout 4 than in any other Fallout, and Ang Lee has form here too. The result, though, is a movie that ends up being a bit flabby and unfocussed at times, despite technically bringing more to the table than Fallout 3, and being funnier and lighter overall. Watch on a day off due to a chonky runtime.

what are you fucking talking about, Ang Lee's best movies are Brokeback and Sense & Sensibility, and his worst are probably Hulk and Gemini Man. Fallout 4 is the one where Bethesda just stopped pretending to give a shit about story and roleplaying, instead pivoting the game into a skinner box of tightly-honed but ultimately soulless mechanics.

I'm not even trying to mock Marvel, but I feel like the MCU's Design-By-Producer-And-Executive-Oversight is actually the answer here. It doesn't matter who directs it because the main voice will be a board room.

oh shut upppppp

Fallout Shelter would in some ways be the most obvious setup for a movie: the self-contained story of a vault-dwelling society, interspersed with the surface adventures of random dwellers. Sounds a bit like the TV show when you put it like that, which is why there's only one Nolan for the job: Christopher! Yes, fresh off Oppenheimer it is time for Oppenheimer 2, focusing on the aftermath of all-out nuclear war (hell, Cillian Murphy can even have a cameo as a brain in a jar, I'm that generous). Moody, intense, riven with twists you didn't see coming, and with all special effects done for realsies, this movie could only ever be rad. The only downside is that, like the TV show Silo, you'd spend an awful lot of time indoors.

absolutely fucking not. the thing about Nolan is that his shit is so meticulous, it like.... pitches past hyper-realism and lands in this weird uncanny valley of "he wouldn't fucking say that" but it's for a character you've only known for ten minutes.

FO: Shelter is about emergent storytelling that feels almost accidental rather than arranged or scripted. you need someone who is hands-off the script but can capture a.... good moment..............

oh god, it's JJ Abrams, isn't it? god dammit. or, frankly? Spielberg. so I'm saying no to the director i hate and offering instead two other directors i dislike, but for different reasons.

yeah. yep. that's what i'm doing.

SPITTAKE

As an MMO that takes many aspects of the Fallout universe to the extreme, it feels a movie version of Fallout 76 would be akin to a huge-budget, climatic MCU movie where it really helps if you've had previous with the series to get most enjoyment. As such, I feel the Russo brothers would take the reigns for Fallout 76. The result would be a jack-of-all-trades action-adventure that borrows bits of every previous Fallout to make something that appeals to a lot of people but, after watching, doesn't go down as something you'd rewatch for most all of them. Big, bright, wacky and action-filled, there's no doubting though that you get a spectacle and fun, though. Watch in two sittings over two nights (as the movie's runtime is 3 hours 47 minutes).

no. fuck you. i reject your premise. the Fallout game that shipped with no NPCs and expected the story to be entirely conveyed by set-pieces, environmental design, and audiologs?

resurrect Tarkovsky and give us FO76, desolate and beautiful with environmental shots that last seven minutes without a cut. because the only good thing about FO76 is the setting, the amount of effort put into building the actual space, so I want 90 minutes of film and seven pages of script.

Russo Brothers, get tf out of here

#fallout #fonv #THIS SURE GOT LONG AND SURE HAS SOME OPINIONS IN IT HUH #WHOOPSIE DAISY

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incorrectsmashbrosquotes · 5 months

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100% Totally legit spoilers for Sonic 3, I swear

Shadow: Wake the fuck up, doctor. We've got a world to burn.

Shadow, addressing Sonic, Tails and Knuckles after telling them his plan: Now, you can either join me against humanity, or you can DIE SCREAMING ALONGSIDE THEM!

*Shadow is being hunted by Tails*

Shadow: Strange things are afoot in the Circle K.

Shadow: What were you expecting?

Sonic: I dunno?! A happier ending? For everyone involved?!

Shadow: Here? For folks like us? Wrong world. Wrong people.

#incorrect super smash bros #super smash bros #incorrect quotes #smash bros #Shadow #Shadow the Hedgehog #Sonic #Sonic the Hedgehog #Sonic Movie #Sonic 3 #Keanu Reeves #source: Cyberpunk 2077 #Source: John Wick #Source: Bill and Ted

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jahsontodd · 1 year

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✨rating pedro pascal characters based on nothing but costuming (non-exhaustive)✨

considerations:

*real housewives voice* thats my OPINION!!! also subject to change upon reflection, just going off my current feelings.

not really discussing whether the costuming is good or bad for character, context, or source material but just how much I like them if that makes sense.

some of these costume designers knocked it out of the park but would I be a little grumpy if I went on a date and they showed up in a walmart denim button up and ripped their $300+ jacket to shreds? Yes. Was that costume absolutely perfect for Joel? Yes again.

Mostly discussing costuming in context modern/21st century settings. The Mandalorian+GOT+ etc. in part two?

Minimal discussion on hair+cosmetics, only really when it applies to the whole look

Javier Gutierrez: The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent

Rating: 10/10

Crew:

Paco Delgado: Costume Designer see also: John Wick: Chapter 4, Death on the Nile, Jungle Cruise, Cats (2019), Split, Les Misérables 2012 (and many more he’s booked and busy)

full cast and crew

Comments:

They did not have to go so crazy on these outfits!!!

Why does one of my favorite looks apparently not even appear in the movie!?

every look is so *chefs kiss*

I feel like mustard yellow is such a good color on him.

Like call up those people on tik tok who make nonsensical categories like “strong winter” “ambivalent fall” and find out why mustard yellow always works.

The palette is a cute mix of like warm bricky colors like red, brown, mustard yellow mixed with baby blue and eggshell white. its actually perfect.

What really makes him stand out is the fact he accessorizes.

Lots of men don't accessorize because they don’t think its important - they couldn’t be more wrong.

It’s one of the many injustices of the world that a man’s outfit looks 10x better by adding one necklace or in this case- pinky ring.

Do I like the sunglasses? No. But I like that they are there.

Obligatory hair mention: The hair looks great. With longer hair becomes more responsibility, ie sometimes the part is a little too deep making the front pieces have a combover look. This is only when its messy though so that may have been the point?

If I included every outfit I liked it would just be a slideshow of the whole movie so I picked my favorites

Javier Peña: Narcos

Rating: 10/10

Crew:

Bina Daigler: Costume Designer (season 1) see also: Dumplin’, Tár, Mulan (2020), 1899

María Estela Fernánde: Costume Designer (season 2-3) see also: Narcos: Mexico, Queen of the South, Hell (El Infierno)

Mayra de Abreu: Wardrobe Supervisor (season 1) key costumer for (season 2-3) see also: Narcos: Mexico, The Head of Joaquín Murrieta (La Cabeza de Joaquín Murrieta)

full cast and crew

Comments:

Can you tell I like 70s inspos?

Its unique but true to someone who grew up in RGV and now on his own

ie good luck getting him out of boots. you can’t do it

When he dresses up in s1+2, damn i love a tan suit!

Its very formulaic, but not to the extent that it looks like he bought 7 colors of the exact same shirt. He’s pretty much always wearing a short sleeve button up and fitted jeans. which makes the times he isn’t stand out

ie the tan suit. what can i say i am an american who is up to date on politics i always defend a tan suit when i see one

also occasionally breaks out this like tan vest situation?

I think it’s a good balance between like clearly not being inspired by like their “current day” but not so 70s that it would be odd. It’s kinda timeless.

He tends to follow one of my outfits rules: max 3 colors

Rules are meant to be broken obvi

But I do feel like as a general rule of thumb and since he doesn’t wear a ton of patterns, wearing more than three colors starts to make an outfit look random and not put together

For Javi, this usually means

color 1: *shirt color*

color 2: pants (pretty much just blue or black, he does throw in some brown pants)

color 3: brown (pretty exclusively wears brown belts/shoes)

Short note on hair/grooming: I love how season 1 has some more length in the back and generally has a shaggy sort of look? By season 3 his hair is more cropped probably bc of his new role.

Something about the extra length in the back makes him look young- not in the sense of like actual age but maybe looking more hopeful or green, even when dressed up

Also every so often you can see when they mess up the stick on sideburns. It tickles me.

He’s a menace to society. And he knows it

Pietro Alvarez: If Beale Street Could Talk

Rating: 8/10

Crew:

Caroline Eselin (Caroline Eselin-Schaefer): Costume Designer see also: Moonlight (2016), Father of the Bride, Troop Zero, The Underground Railroad

full cast and crew

Comments:

We don’t see much and what we see! Is so good

This deep deep red is very nice and I like that is a monochromatic look (I don’t think we see his pants in the movie but collecting pics for this I saw the pants are the same color)

It also has my favorite type of collar- that extra pointy extra long collar.

And he *drum rolls* accessorized! Its only a necklace but the choice to have it OVER the shirt, over an already perfectly monochrome outfit makes it pop

The things that bring it a little down for me is, well, there is only one scene to work with so it feels wrong to rank higher than projects with multiple outfits, and the grooming

The mustache didn’t have to be so thin.

Hair wise I don’t understand why we always have to exaggerate the side burns to achieve the “deep sideburn” look.

I feel like we could still make the hair look “of the time” by taking some of the weight from the sides and leaving it up top and working with his natural side burns (even if that means making them darker, just not necessarily longer)

Even though I get the hair of the time was very um... spherical

side note: everyone in this movie is dressed spectacularly. I am appreciating through the tears in my eyes

Jack Daniels: Kingsman: Golden Circle

Rating: 7/10

Crew:

Arianne Phillips: Costume Designer See Also: Don’t Worry Darling, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, Nocturnal Animals, Kingsman: The Secret Service

Full cast and crew

Comments:

Have I watched in full? Maybe a few years ago? I remember the first one quite clearly bc the water filling up the bedroom scene YIKES!

The snowsuit is so good. It’s functional, it’s sassy. It has one of my favorite western top details I don’t know the name of but the little patch details on the front of the shoulders.

Who’s idea was it for the belt buckle to be a FLASK!!! thats gold

I love a color SCHEME!!!

brown leather deserves love

The rain boots- a practical choice in the middle of like the least practical movie ever? Leave him in cowboy boots you cowards

Like oh the grounds might get muddy he needs rain boots. His belt buckle was a flask guys be real

Marcus Pike: The Mentalist

Rating: 5/10

Crew:

Amanda Friedland: Costumer Designer See also: 13 Reasons Why, House of 1000 Corpses, Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles, Fight Club, Clueless,

Scott O’Leary: Costume Designer See Also: The Rookie, Lucifer, Supergirl, 21 Jumpstreet

full cast and crew

Comments:

Have I watched in full? No. I caught a few episodes it was when it was airing but I don’t think i could tell you a single plot line

(there is a LOT of FBI Department of Pseudo Psychology shows ok)

I do remember in one of his early eps they use the murder house from Nightcrawlers.

*Abby Lee voice* you didn’t stick out to me

Very government employee of you to wear ill fitting suits

Not to be irrational but v-neck t shirts don’t rub me the right way.

This is a completely personal ick that I don’t expect anyone else to agree with.

I just ~~ just do a crew neck you know?

Maybe WHY I don’t like it is because its very 2010-2014.

Which, in Marcus’ defense, just makes v-neck t-shirts something of the time

Does nothing crazy with his suits, but nothing that makes me cover my eyes either

Joel Miller: The Last of Us

Rating: 6/10

Crew:

Cynthia Anne Summers: Costume Designer See also: Swan Song, The Babysitters Club, Snowpiercer, A Series of Unfortunate Events (2018), Apollo 18

Full cast and crew

Comments:

Joel we get it you are nOT like other girls

It makes sense for who he is.

And who he is is someone who is not thinking about how much cunt he is going to serve with his outfit that day.

unFORTUNATELY.

His pants ARE suspiciously fitted. Not so utilitarian when it comes to pants are you Joel?

But! I love the big coat. Could live in the big coat. The big coat deserves an award

The best part of the big coat is the main defense against the simplicity of Joel’s outfits are “oh it’s the apocalypse” or “oh he’s not thinking about that”

Really? bc this is a SHEARLING lined coat. Do you know how quickly those fluffy shearling/sherpa etc. liners start to look like shit? if its a real shearling lining (the one he uses is real) you need to avoid getting it wet and store in dry areas.

I am not even talking about price here! Because I have already explained why I think its not that weird to have people wearing expensive clothes 20 years into the apocalypse.

Its the utility of having a shearling lined coat when you don’t have a closet full of DampRids

No way he had it in Boston since they only travel with regular sized backpacks. He saw it, liked it, wanted it, got it.

He got that coat for the cunt of it all, you can’t convince me otherwise.

Thank you so much for coming on this ride with me it was a fun exercise to look at just the clothes and not my feelings toward the character/movie/show.

Who should I do next time? I have plenty of more thoughts hehe

~Tags for amiges who wanted to see this post!~

@fuckyeahpedropascal @simpingcowboy

#tlou #pedro pascal #Joel miller #javier gutierrez #javier peña #Marcus pike #the last of us #the mentalist #narcos #the unbearable weight of massive talent #pietro alvarez #kingsman golden circle

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sweetbillwriting · 9 months

Text

The Finer Things

Part 3 - Too Many Questions

Description: Ines lives a modest life in Brooklyn but has a secret, a valuable painting. Out of nowhere Vincent De Gramont appears and wants to help her sell it. He welcomes her into a life of luxury the question is just why?

Characters: Vincent De Garmont, The Marquis, From John Wick 4, the rest are my own characters.

Setting: This story is set in my own universe, so not exactly the John Wick universe.

Warnings: 18+, prejudice and stereotypical thinking about nationalities, mentions about sex, alcohol, talk about body and weight.

Notes: Don't hate me if the French is bad, it's google translate! The reason why I don't write out the translation is because Ines doesn't understand but of course you can use your sources to translate it if you want to know more than her haha!

He looked at her strangely while he chewed his steak slowly. Ines had expected him to eat something more classy than steak fries but he ate pleased.

“I guess I like it?” He answered a bit dismissively and looked out at rainy Paris. It wasn't the best side of Paris Ines got to see. She had just asked him about his habit of being barefoot and smirked a little. Vincent was dressed in a gray three piece suit but had taken off his jacket and let a servant hold it while he was eating. The servant didn't look so pleased that he was forced to be a human clothes hanger.

“You look embarrassed by the question,” she said teasingly and leaned forward on her elbows.

“No elbows on the table,” he said bluntly without looking at her. Ines leaned back so Vincent could see the dusty purple midi dress she wore. The chiffon was light and floated around her legs.

“Come on, why?” She said when the embarrassment from her bad manners had been forgotten.

Vincent sighed and took a sip of his wine. He looked uncomfortable but gave her a long look.

“My uncle had this… Big castle with soft rugs in every room. I was there a lot as a kid and I guess I just liked feeling the soft materials against my feet…” he said while wiping the corner of his mouth with the napkin he had laid out in his lap. Ines had laid hers the same way, it felt like it was expected. She smiled at his story. Little Vincent must have been cute with his big eyes. A little dolly.

“But a castle? That's insane! Did you also live in a castle?”

He still didn't look at her, just cut the steak elegantly.

“No, not a castle.”

Ines giggled a little, she could just imagine him living in a mansion that for her would be a castle.

“Your home outside of Paris, is it pretty?”

Now Vincent finally looked up at her but then sighed.

“I like Shangri-La better.”

He was silent again while Ines tried to come up with more questions while eating.

“Your parents are dead. Mine too,” he suddenly said. It wasn't at all what Ines expected him to say. Even if she had asked him so many questions she wasn't really comfortable with that subject so she didn't say anything. Vincent just continued to eat unbothered and Ines got the feeling he had just said it to make her shut up.

They went home to the hotel with a limo after having eaten up. They still were quiet even if Ines wanted to gush over the luxurious limousine. They went to their respective bedrooms without a word. She felt uncomfortable even if it was her own fault. She could have just continued the conversation, especially when Vincent seemed so comfortable dropping that his parents were dead too. She wondered how he knew but could guess, such a rich man probably looked up every person he was around.

There was a knock on the door when she stood in her underwear hanging up the pretty dress. She covered herself with her hands as a reflex.

“I'm not dressed!” She said in panic.

“I will not open if you don't give me permission,” Vincent said calmly. “I ordered dessert for us… And a bottle of champagne. I wonder if you want to join me to talk about the plan? About the painting?”

Ines felt her heart beat in her chest. It sounded kinda romantic, even if she knew it wasn't his purpose.

“Yeah… Okay? I will… Put something on.”

“Do that,” he said with an uninterested voice. Ines sighed while she pulled on a pair of old sweats and a hoodie. He wasn't charming, he wasn't interested in her and he didn’t want intimacy. She had no reason to dress up for him.

She opened her door with a sour look just to show him how disappointed she was by it all but she couldn't hold her face for long. In the big living room with a view over Paris and the Eiffel tower, it was dark, but not so dark she couldn't see anything. Paris' many street lights made it brighter but also the candles that were lit in high candle holders on the floor and tables. She could smell vanilla and something floral scented, something that made her think about Vincent's cologne. She looked at him when he came into the room with two coupe glasses and the champagne in a gold ice bucket. He was dressed in a black silk pajamas with a discreet pattern.

“What is this?” She said, shocked while she quickly checked her appearance in one of the many big mirrors.

“Evening dessert?” He said and gave her a confused look. “Didn't you hear what I said through the door?”

“Yes but… This?” She pointed at the candles while Vincent sat down on the cream colored couch. Elegantly he laid one leg over another and Ines gave his bare foot a look. Why did she suddenly like watching his feet? It was odd and embarrassing.

“They are there for a reason?” He just said and opened the champagne bottle easily with his big hands.

Ines laughed a little confused and gave the man dressed in silk an examining look. It was a romantic setting but he didn't want intimacy. She couldn't read him at all. Maybe he just liked the classical romantic things, it was possible but wouldn't he hold back on such things when he lived with a single woman?

There was a soft knock at the door and both of them looked up. The Marquis raised his voice and said something in French that made the person outside of the door open it. A smartly dressed waiter came into the room with a trolley with several silver coupes. He said something in french but Vincent just gave him a short answer before he left again.

“I really need to learn French,” said Ines painfully. She knew it would be hard.

“You should. He just wondered if he should present the food but I don't like it when they stay too long.”

Ines looked at him amused while he poured champagne for them both. When he was finished and reached for a glass for her she still looked the same. He looked at her unamused, he had clearly already learned she would make a comment.

“What?”

“You're such a snob!” She exclaimed but with humor in her voice. “Can't have the peasant close to where you sleep?”

Vincent took a big gulp even if it wasn't the way to drink vintage champagne but he just needed the alcohol.

“That was not what I meant.”

“Mhm,” said Ines with a smirk and then took a sip from her own glass. She looked more elegant than him.

He shook his head annoyed and poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He walked up to the trolley and lifted the coupes one after another.

“What do you like?”

“Uuuuh, I love chocolate ,” said Ines and ran up to him playfully. Vincent gave her a fast look then down at the three different desserts.

“I think this is mine then,” he said and took the plate that looked like a symphony of different chocolates. Ines gasped and wanted to hit him playfully but he felt annoyed for real.

“You just took that one so I wouldn't get it!” She said and looked down at the dessert with pink shades and the other that just seemed to be an apple pie. He clearly took the best one.

“No, I took it because I wanted it.” He said bluntly and sat down on the couch again with the dessert balanced in one hand.

“It was just because I called you a snob,” she said and took the pink dessert in her hands. “You've been such a perfect gentleman before.”

Vincent didn't say anything, just ate slowly while Ines sat down. She looked at him while she also started to eat. It was good and even had some white chocolate in the mix.

“Can I taste it?” She asked playfully which made Vincent furrow his brows.

“From my plate?” He almost sounded upset and Ines giggled a little.

“I can use my own spoon…”

He gave her a fast look and put down his plate on the table.

“You can taste mine… It's actually really moist…” she said it playfully sexy because she knew what she said could sound like she talked about something else because even if Vincent seemed irritated she got a feeling he actually liked it.

He continued to stare down at his plate but gave hers a look when she put it down next to his. He sighed and dragged his hands over his thighs.

“Fine!” He said irritatedly and leaned back on the couch. Ines looked at him amused and giggled. On purpose she leaned forward with a curved back and laid a hand on his thigh like she couldn't reach the plate otherwise. Even if she couldn't see his face she sucked the spoon greedily after having tasted it and made a moaning sound.

“ That was soo good…” she said and turned to him. She looked at him playfully but he looked just as annoyed.

“I hope your hand is clean because I don't want grease stains on my pajamas.”

Ines felt her face drop. It wasn't the reaction she had hoped for and hadn't even thought about. She leaned back on the couch and swallowed hard. She didn't feel embarrassed, more stunned someone could be like him.

Vincent sighed and sipped his champagne.

“Are you ready to talk about the plan or should I wait until tomorrow?” He said and looked at her with a bored expression. Ines looked back at him with a confused face but it got so irritated by seeing his bored expression.

“Just get it over with.”

×××

His plan was that he would let the rumors go about the painting, send some pictures to the art knowing people and get the ball rolling. A few days later there would be a charity gala where they could go mingle with potential buyers. He was clear that she could be her most charming colorful self there and talk about her grandmother warmly. His part was to organize the speculators to see the painting and hopefully get it sold to the highest bidder.

“So… My role is just being there and being… funny?” She asked with furrowed brows. She looked at Vincent closely and was fascinated by his skin. Didn't he have pores?

“To be as vibrant as the painting. It's worth a lot to see the woman in the painting through a living person. You're so alike her,” said Vincent and crossed his legs again.

“So be there, be pretty and charming?”

“But don't forget the manners. You don't eat from someone else's plate.”

There was some humor in his voice but it was so hard to detect Ines wondered if she had imagined it.

“Yeah yeah, yeah…”

“Yes,” he pronounced clearly.

Ines gave him an irritated look and stood up.

“God, you're like an annoying teacher!”

She took the last of her champagne. “I'm going to bed. You can sit here by yourself and say ‘yes’!” She looked at him annoyed and put down her glass but in a swift movement also took the chocolate dessert.

“Good night!” She said and stomped away to her bedroom.

×××

That Vincent de Gramont was an annoying snob was obvious. That he liked sweets, had great skincare and alluring charisma was also obvious. Ines laid awake and looked up at the ceiling with crossed arms. She was tired of him, so tired. To be with a person that corrected her all the time would not be fun. Once again she was with a person that believed they knew her own self better than her.

She already needed a break for him. After getting ready for the day in a powder pink blouse and black pants she walked out to the shared space. It was empty. She had expected him to be sitting on the couch or maybe by the table reading. She looked around confused, then annoyed but after having listened to the silence of the expensive suite she just felt sad and alone. She had wanted a break from him but now she felt a heavy panic beat in her chest. What she didn't notice was that the painting, which had stood hidden in a hallway, was gone. Her future but also her past had disappeared. Ines just continued to walk around hurt that Vincent had left her alone and decided to be kinder to him when he came back. That she should stop making sexual jokes and asking too many questions. She should be less. Be a classy woman. The fifth time she walked by the door to the suite opened up by Vincent dressed in a sage green suit, she couldn't say if he had had it before.

“Oh my god! Where have you been?!” She acclaimed upset and a bit too loudly to not make Vincent's eyes get bigger than they already were. He walked into the suite with a strange look on his face and took off his well polished shoes.

“Hello??” She said and almost jumped to express her frustration.

“Did you drink too much coffee or something today?” He asked him and put his jacket on the back of a chair.

“No!” She said annoyed and stomped with her foot. Vincent looked down at her feet and furrowed his brows then he shook his head like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

“I met a speculator. On the painting.”

He gave her a calming look. With his hands rested on the back of a chair. Ines looked at him and let her heartbeat settle.

“Really?” She sat down on the chair opposite the one he was resting on.

“Yeah. I've moved the painting to a conference room that is at the end of the hallway so we can be there to meet buyers. Pierre is guarding it. But the buyer…” Vincent sighed and sat down. “He wanted to pay nothing. Like nothing.”

Ines nodded with big eyes. She understood that nothing didn't mean he wanted it for free but it was nothing for a rich man as Vincent.

“Oh… But others will pay more for it?”

“Absolutely.”

He looked at Ines reassuringly and then smiled friendly. Ines felt her cheeks warm and smiled back. Vincent smiled bigger and licked his lips.

“Tu es une très jolie fille,” he said with a soft voice. Ines furrowed her brows and got irritated that she didn't know any french.

“What? You can't speak French to me! I don't understand a thing, you know that!”

Vincent smirked and stood up.

“Dommage que tu sois juste une Américaine agaçante.”

“You said something about me being an American!” She pointed at him and gasped. Vincent just continued to smirk and took his jacket from the chair next to him.

“Apprends le français et peut-être que j'élargirai les règles pour toi. Je promets que ça vaut le coup.” He walked confidently to his room. “Can you order some tea for us?”

Ines furrowed her brows in confusion, both by the French but also the tea.

“What about breakfast?” She asked and listened to her stomach grumble.

Vincent made an amused face and looked at her where he stood in the doorway to his room.

“It was three hours ago. The clock is eleven.”

×××

Ines felt like she played house with Vincent when she lived with him in the suite of Shangri-La, but that sort of game jetset kids played. She slept in long in the mornings, did luxurious treatments in the hotel spa and made herself ready for dinner out with Vincent when he came home from his meetings. He had met with some buyers the couple days she had stayed there and over dinner he complained about how awful they tried to bargain with him. He got her to laugh, but more by his attitude and snobby ways but for every time she laughed he seemed to like it more and more.

She had been there five nights when it was time for them to go to the charity gala and meet rich, rich people. If she hadn't had Vincent she would have skipped it because of her nervousness. She didn't feel it was fun at all because the nerves took over.

She knocked on Vincent's door after she heard the shower being shut off for a while.

“Yes?” He said through the door.

“Ehhh… Can you help me?” She asked and looked down at her well manicured toes she had done in the hotel spa. She was just dressed in a fluffy robe but her hair and makeup were done to perfection.

“With what?”

She sighed to herself because it was embarrassing to confess how little she knew about his world.

“What I should wear…”

Vincent didn't say anything and it made Ines feel even more stupid.

“Hello?”

Vincent opened the door and looked down at her where she stood. He also wore one of the hotel's fluffy robes and his hair was wet. Ines smiled a bit by seeing him so natural and rosy cheeked.

“I can help you. If you listen.”

Ines rolled her eyes but led him to her room. For her it wasn't a big deal to invite a man to her room, both dressed in robes but Vincent felt differently and paused outside of the door.

“Soo… Does black work?” She said and showed him a black dress, or she thought she showed him but realized he stood outside of the doorway. “Why are you standing there?”

Vincent gave her a pointed look with crossed arms.

“You're a lady.”

“Yes, but I invited you in?”

“Sometimes it's not about that.”

Ines gave him an irritated look and rolled her eyes.

“Are you slut shaming me now for letting you come into my room?”

Vincent looked at her confused, confused in a way she hadn't seen him before.

“No? No, definitely not. It's…” he cleared his voice and looked around awkwardly.

“It just goes against what I normally do,” he said politely and Ines examined him to see if he told the truth. He looked awkward but tried to hide it behind a hard mask.

“Okay… Emm… Can you come in now then? Just to help me?” Ines said and looked at the dress instead of him. Vincent cleared his throat and walked in with a straight back. Ines' heart beated heavily in her chest. She had such a hard time reading him and didn't know if he had manners or just issues but she got the feeling there was another man behind that well polished surface. He stopped next to her and before she had asked her question again he had taken the hanger from her hand and put it back in the wardrobe.

“It's a formal party, you must wear a full length dress. Not black that's… A woman with real style doesn't wear black to a charity event,” he said dismissively and pulled out a red full length dress to her.

“You have the right skin for red and tonight you should get all the attention.” He sounded like he gave her orders and looked at her like she was a project.

“The dress is backless, do you need nipple covers? The hotel can fix that.”

“Oh… Oh… Yeah that would be good?” She got a bit overwhelmed by it all but also a bit embarrassed that Vincent dressed her like she was his Barbie doll, or even worse, his daughter.

“I’ll call them,” he said and started to walk out of the room. Ines looked at his broad back. She was grateful for his help but knew he would be angry when she told him the bitter truth.

“But Vincent…” her voice came out thick and weird and she could feel how it rasped in her throat. Vincent turned around with a questioning look.

“Shoes?”

He made a sound of amusement that almost sounded like a laugh and walked back to the room with eyes on the stilettos he had bought her.

“I can't walk in heels…”

Ines felt her face get red and looked away to not see Vincent. He had stopped in his motion and just stared at her. After a few painful seconds in silence Ines looked at him. He clenched his jaw like he was pissed and pulled on the rope to the robe.

“I've worn the ballerina flats this week, can't I just use them?” She asked nervously and Vincent shut his eyes as a response.

“You will wear the powder pink strappy sandals. The color will work well with the red especially if you wear that pink clutch bag also.” He said and opened his eyes to give her a striked look.

“I would feel much more comfortable in the flats…”

“But now you aren't five years old. Wear the pink heels,” said he with a hard voice and turned around to walk back to his own room.

When she was alone she laid out the dress on the bed and looked at it dejectively. The skirt was full and pleated while the neck was high to contrast with the deep back. It was so pretty but it didn't feel good how Vincent decided what she would wear with such an iron fist. She knew it was his world and he knew best but to go against herself completely, to that degree she would have serious anxiety wasn't right. She put on the dress and looked at herself in the mirror. Vincent would see the obvious problem too. She felt the tears push behind her eyes and took a deep breath. She wasn't at all the kind of woman that Vincent should have on his arm. She walked out from the room and walked with slumped shoulders to his room. The door was open and he still wore his robe.

“This doesn't work…” she said and her voice broke from the tears that now pushed out from her eyes. Vincent looked up at her and gave her an uncomfortable look. He saw the problem too but also her tears. To wear a backless dress demanded another thing, being braless and it was obvious her chest was too big to look good like that. She didn't have the figure of a french model and probably didn't look like the kind of woman Vincent was around. He dragged his hands over his hips and cleared his throat. Would he say something mean?

“Okay…” he said and nodded a little.

“You're great at fashion and so on but I don't think you get a woman's anatomy. I have boobs, hips and ass. And I can't walk in heels because I've never been to this sort of event. I go to dive bars and get shit faced. I wear Doc Martens or converse not stilettos.” The tears streamed down her cheeks and messed up her makeup.

Vincent continued to nod.

“We will fix it, okay?”

“How?” She dried her tears and looked at him defeated.

“I will make a call. What's your dress size?”

She fixed her makeup again while Vincent called someone, she listened to his elegant french through the open bedroom door but didn't believe he would fix it. She was too fat for a french gala. Too trashy to go beside him.

A half hour later someone knocked on the door and Vincent let them in. Ines was curious how he would solve it. Maybe he had found a skinnier American that could pretend to be her? She walked out to him and saw him stand with an ivory colored tule dream. It looked like something for a swan princess.

“With a ballet style you can wear your flats… And it doesn't have a bare back…” he said but sounded embarrassed. He looked around in the room like he was uncomfortable with being nice.

Ines looked at the pretty dress and the man dressed in an elegant dress suit. He looked like perfection in his white bow tie and pushed back hair. Ines laughed in joy and gratitude.

“Oh my god Vincent…” she said and walked up to him and touched the dress.

“You're really the greatest stylist.” She giggled and touched his hand affectionately and looked down at her hand with big eyes.

“Just change now,” he said and tried to sound cold while giving her the dress.

Ines looked at him with a small smile and thought to herself that he was a thoughtful man behind that diamond adorned armor.

She changed in her room and looked at herself in the mirror. A swan princess. She giggled and felt her eyes well up with tears again. Never had she believed she could look like that. She pulled on the light pink ballet flats and put on a pearl adorned hair clip and the diamond necklace and bracelet she got from Vincent. He had made her into a princess. Her fairy god… Art seller?

She felt a bit nervous to walk out to Vincent. Maybe he wouldn't like it but somewhere inside her she knew he would. She didn't know where the feeling came from.

On her tippy toes she walked out to him with a nervous smile. He stood leaned against one of the dining chairs and looked up at her carefully. He also looked a bit nervous but it transformed quickly into a small smirk.

“Bonsoir belle ballerine,” he said and gave her a liking nod. Ines giggled, it didn't matter what he said because his pleased expression said it all.

“Should we start with a glass of champagne at the hotel bar?” He said and reached his hand out for her. Ines smiled at him with warming cheeks and took his hand.

“Merci,” she said with a giggle because it was the only French she knew.

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard #fan fiction #writing #story #bill skarsgård writing #bill skarsgård fanfiction #fiction #vincent de gramont #the marquis #john wick #john wick 4

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