(y/n) is a world renowned model, and when she packs her bags for Paris, some love interests of the superhero and super model variety come her way.
A little insight into this story:
The reader is very traditionally feminine, à la her career in mode...
As (y/n) watched the metallic door shut, an extreme pang of longing struck in her heart. She erratically pulled the fur off her shoulders and tossed the coat over the back of her sofa. She was about to slump down onto the couch but then she glanced down at her glitter drenched body and sighed deeply. (Y/n) kicked off her shoes and began drag herself up the stairs, when she looked behind her she saw the discarded piece of paper with kitty's scribbled socials, she picked it up and inspected it, it was then she realized she was having a great deal of trouble with reading.
(Y/n) outreached a hand onto the wall leading up to her bed, she tried her best not to stumble. She did manage to successfully pull herself up to the top floor, where she immediately stripped and collapsed on her bed without another thought.
Her feet were killing her.
(Y/n) was rudely awaken from her sweet slumber by Meera swiping her face gently with a warm, wet towel, soaked with makeup remover.
"(Y/n). I could not be more disappointed. Sleeping in makeup, really? First cardinal rule. I hope you realize that you won't be going to school today. We are going directly to the esthetician's and we are staying there until they assure there will be no emerging imperfections. It's probably for the better. You have a fitting for Fashion week. Wait till I show you the concept art; now-"
She pointed to the bathroom door, and ripped off the covers, completely exposing (y/n) to the bitter air.
"Go bathe. Immediately. A car will be here in an hour. The chef is downstairs, what should I tell him you want to eat?"
(Y/n) yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she diligently obeyed and rolled over, slumping over to the bathroom.
"I would like... an egg white omelette. And..."
Her thought trailed off as she turned on the hot water, and let it cascade over her back. (Y/n) raised her voice for Meera to hear over the gushing water.
"And a smoothie of some kind. Oh, and do you know when the perfume shoot débutes?"
Meera walked into the bathroom without any inhibitions, with a hair clip, and she reached through the glass sliding door and scooped up (y/n)'s hair into a messy updo. She did this all while holding her phone against her ear with her shoulder. She commanded someone on the other line and (y/n) just tuned it out.
"Yes, absolutely....No she isn't available that time... No... one moment.- The ads release the day after tomorrow- No, I am still talking to you. She does do interviews, yes. We do have to approve all the questions, yes. Yes, she does. No, we are not disclosing that information currently, but if you reconnect in a week or so we may be able to release a statement."
Meera disappeared and (y/n) heard her voice trail down the stairs, she never wondered what it was Meera was planning for her, she learned to never question, and simply allow plans to happen. It was easier than fighting it.
She felt rejuvenated by the water, and as she covered herself in the sweet aroma of her soap, (y/n) thought of the things that made her feel free. Sleeping, specially dreaming. Shopping. Slow evenings, eating alone. Slight breezes. Night skies. And.... Adrien.
Her mind wandered back to last night. The club lights, the rooftop. The elevator.
A shock ran up her spine in that instant, remembering the way he kissed her. Then (y/n) remembered the way he held her in her kitchen, how tightly yet tenderly. She could feel rush of heat to her face so she shut off the water and wrapped herself in a warm towel robe.
(Y/n) put on a pair of slippers , grabbed her phone from her nightstand, and tiptoed downstairs.
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