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vanwritesfan-fiction · 9 months

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Acquainted (18+)

Pairing: Model!Urban x Photographer!Reader

Words: 2,301

Warnings: Contains explicit content, please DNI if under 18

“Here’s your pass. The designer asks that you don’t bother the models, in fact don’t even look them in the eye, they don’t like that.” The press coordinator stopped in her tracks and looked behind her to see that you were no longer in step with her. “Keep up, please!” Your new boss was giving you the rundown backstage at the Prada SS’24 show, and you were having trouble staying behind her.

You had stumbled about 10 feet back, dropping your camera bag, all of your lenses and cleaning equipment falling out onto the floor. You saw a manicured hand reach down to pick up one of your lenses, the hand connected to a tall, muscular model with piercing blue eyes. Remembering your training, you avoided eye contact. “Thank you.” You rushed off to catch up with your boss.

“Are you going to be trouble for me, Y/N? I don’t need trouble today.” You shook your head fervently, pulling out your camera to prove you were ready for this job. “Look, I wouldn’t even have given you this job if your dad wasn’t a photography legend, so don’t press your luck.” You nodded in appreciation, rolling your eyes as soon as you were sure she had turned away. She wasn’t wrong, you were a nepo baby in your own right, your father teaching you how to take pictures at a very young age and then dragging you through the ranks, from freelance to head photographer for Paris Fashion Week. You knew you were lucky to be here, but you also had a chip on your shoulder because you knew you were good, and you didn’t think you had to work so hard to prove yourself. “We need behind the scenes shots for Vogue, so work the room and gets some closeups of the models in hair and makeup.” You were given your instructions before the coordinator ran off to take care of other responsibilities.

You walked around the hair and makeup stations, taking as many shots as you could before the show started. As you walked to the end of the room, you recognized the same guy who had helped clean up your mess earlier. His blonde hair was tied back in a sleek low bun so you could see his strong, rounded features. You walked up to him, your camera covering most of your face so he couldn’t see that you were blushing.

“Hey.” He spoke first, his accent surprisingly American, and you thought you could pick up on a southern twang. “Oh, sorry. I was told not to bother the models, I’m just trying to get some pictures.”

“Wait, are you American?” You nodded, letting your camera hang from your neck strap. “Yeah, I’m from LA.” He let out a sigh of relief, a smile creeping on his face as he ran his hand against his beard. “Thank God, I was really beginning to think I wouldn’t see anyone else from the states here. My manager handed me a plane ticket, saying I was going to Paris, even though I’ve never taken above a high school French 1 class.”

“I’m sure you’re making it just fine.” You gave him a sincere smile. “I’ve eaten nothing but croissants the last couple of days because I don’t know how to order anything past “Une croissant, sil vous plait.” You laughed at the painfully American accent butchering the French words. “I’m Y/N.”

“Urban.”

“Well Urban, if you ever get a chance to venture around Paris, let me know, and I’ll be sure to show you how to properly order food. You’re missing out on some amazing French cuisine.” He smiled, opening his mouth to say something when the models were all called to line up for the show. “Another time, then.” Before he stood up, you snapped a picture of his face. If you never saw him again, at least you had something to remember him by.

****

As the music began blaring in the speakers, you made your way to the front of the stage. The models began walking down the runway in time with the beat of the music, their movements rigid. You took pictures of everything around you, not sure what the magazines would find usable. “Ow!” You turned behind you to see that you had stepped on the foot of some B-list celebrity. “Watch where you’re walking, bitch!” You ignored her cries for attention as you worked around the stage.

As you saw Urban coming down the runway, your heart started to race. He was definitely in his element tearing down the runway, his demeanor more serious and reserved then the person you met backstage. He made eye contact with you immediately, his eyes softening. Not wanting to mess him up, you gave him nothing but a small smile, but that was enough to catch his attention. As he made his way to the end of the runway, he looked directly into your camera and bit at his lip, pulling his plump bottom lip between his teeth. You gulped, knowing that was just for you, in a room of at least 100 other people. He gave you a wink before he turned to walk back to the start. You don’t even remember if you took pictures the rest of the night, your mind only on Urban.

****

After the show, you were backstage packing up your equipment when Urban approached you again. The room was pretty much empty, most of the models having to rush to their next show across town. “You looked good out there.” You looked up from your bag. “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you? You were the model.” “No, I meant what I said. It had nothing to do with your camera.” You felt the heat radiating from your cheeks.

“I’m headed to a party tonight, would you like to come?”

“It depends, was that move on the runway for me?” You gave him a cocked eyebrow, but he just returned with the same confident smile. “I guess I’ll see you tonight then”, replied Urban before he walked away, leaving you stunned.

****

“We need to make a stop before we head to the party, okay?” Urban confessed when he picked you up from your apartment. You just nodded, letting him lead the way. After about a quick 10-minute walk, you came upon an underground party. You had heard rumors about these events before, but at seeing it in person, it kind of looked like a high school party you would go to back in California. Just a bunch of people standing around and talking, smoking weed and drinking. The same stench of cheap Vodka lingered in the air, making you gag from the déjà vu. “You okay?” Urban laughed when he saw your nauseated face. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just having flashbacks to high school.”

“God, I’m so glad I met you, Y/N. Nobody here would know what I was talking back if a mentioned a ‘kickback’, but you do!” You could tell he had been drinking, his volume a bit too loud. “I’ll be right back.” He nodded at someone standing against one of the walls. After a couple of minutes, he returned to where you were standing, holding out a half finished blunt. You took it, taking a couple of drags before you handed it back. “So how did you end up in Paris?” You let out a cough before answering. “My dad, he’s French actually. I grew up in Paris until I was 12 and then I went to go live with my mom in Los Angeles. She’s American.”

“Divorced parents fuckin’ sucks.” You nodded, letting out a curt laugh. “Yeah, they do. But it actually was kind of fun. I spent the school year in the states, and summers in Paris. All of my friends were jealous.”

“How did you get into modeling?” You reached out for the blunt again, Urban allowing you to take a puff from his hand. “You probably won’t believe this, but I was backpacking in Madrid one summer after high school, and I was discovered at a train station. Got signed that day and have been working ever since.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t believe that. That sounds like the plot to a kidnapping movie.”

“You’re funny.” Urban waived his blunt at you.

“I’m a lot of other things too.” You could tell the weed had finally hit because you were feeling uncharacteristically bold. Urban’s eyes immediately filled with lust, his gaze going straight to your chest.

He was going to be fucking you before the night was over.

You felt scrutinized under his gaze, your core beginning to clench. “We should get going if we want to go to that party.”

****

The party you were attending was at a hotel in the Oberkampf district. You both started the long elevator to the penthouse in silence, each taking refuge on either side of the large car. The silence was making you uncomfortable, so you decided to make the first move.

“How long have you been modeling?” You asked the empty space between you and Urban, refusing to make eye contact with him. You heard him chuckle, a sharp breath leaving his mouth. You finally gained the courage to turn to him, leaning your back against the cold metal panels. You weren’t expecting him to be looking at you, his cerulean blue eyes filled with desire. “I’m not interested in small talk”, he edged out between pursed lips, his gaze sizing you up. For the first time you were able to take him out breathtakingly beautiful he was, his blue eyes the least seductive thing about him. You allowed your eyes to close, your core tightening at the thought of running your hands through his blonde locks and his broad shoulders towering over you as he thrusts into your aching cunt. You had seconds to let your vision adjust to the sight of Urban inches from your face, your chests rising and falling in unison.

“Do you trust me?” He was testing to see how far you were willing to go. You nodded, leaning into him further.

“Completely.”

Testing the waters, he pulled you in for a gentle kiss, his strong hands had a light grip around your neck. You broke for a second before you leaned back into him, crashing lips again. You let out a small moan into his mouth when he pinned you to the elevator walls with his pelvis. You could feel him start to slip his hand up your dress, bunching the fabric around your waist, the cold metal stinging against your bare ass. He grinned when he realized you weren’t wearing any panties. “What did you think was going to happen tonight?” You kissed him again, this time harder, hoping he got his answer. Without letting you go, he reached over to the elevator panel and hit the Emergency Stop button with his fist. A blaring alarm sound pierced your ears.

“Veuillez rester calme. Les autorités ont été alertées de votre emplacement et arriveront dans environ trois minutes. (Please remain calm. Authorities have been alerted to your location and will arrive in approximately three minutes.).

“What are you doing? The police are on there way.” You looked at Urban like he was crazy. “How much time do we have?” He looked between you and the blinking panel. “I don’t know, like two and a half minutes?”

“You better cum fast then.”

Before you could object, Urban dropped to his knees, lifting your leg to rest on his shoulder. He immediately latched onto your clit, applying sucking pressure to your sensitive bud. “Oh fuck!” was all you could utter out as you lost your breath. You immediately felt your core start to flex as your orgasm started in your lower stomach. You raked your fingers through his hair, grabbing a bunch in your hands as he moved to swirling the tip of his tongue around your clit, flicking it every couple of seconds. “Don’t stop, Urban.” You were ignoring the automated message by this point, the ringing in your ears drowing out all sound. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. Is this all for me? You’re such a good girl for me, Y/N.” You didn’t even bother answering; both of you knew it was all for him. “I need more.” Urban quickly obliged, running two of his fingers between your folds before slipping them into your entrance. You could feel your knees start to weaken, Urban grabbing onto your thigh when he saw them begin to shake. “That feels so good, Urban. Don’t stop.” He quickened the pace of his fingers, still latched onto your clit when he felt you begin to clench around his hand. Within seconds you were releasing around his fingers, your wetness hitting the metal floor with a splash. Your pussy continued to pulsate, your core seizing as he licked you clean. Every touch with his tongue only extended your orgasm, the sensation too much. “Please, stop. I need a break.”

“Just in time.” Urban pulled your dress down, the sound of a police force coming down the hallway audible within the elevator. You barely had time to adjust yourself when the elevator doors opened.

“Is everything okay, Monsieur?” the cop asked, surveying the room. “Of course, just a stuck elevator.” Urban couldn’t help but chuckle. You slapped his arm, a smile forming on your own face. “The station reported weird noises coming from the elevator car. Do you have any idea what that could have been?”

“No.” You both answered too quickly. “You know these elevators, they have to be at least 100 years old, right.” Urban smacked against the wall, the creaking confirming his lie. “Goodnight, gentlemen.” Urban grabbed your hand, rushing out of the elevator.

#urban wyatt x you #urban wyatt fanfic #urban wyatt x reader #urban wyatt #urban wyatt imagine #urban wyatt x y/n

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rawiswhore · 3 months

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Triple H x Fem Reader- "She Do It With No Hands"

On a "Monday Night Raw" episode that aired in 1998, you walked down to the ring with Triple H accompanying you.

As you walked down to the ring, you were wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around and covering your naked torso, although you did wear some open toed stiletto heels while walking down to the ring.

The towel you wore was covering your breasts, stomach, hips, vulva, ass cheeks and even your back.

A corner and end of your towel was tucked behind the top of your towel above your tits.

The bottom of your towel reached your thighs.

When you wore that towel down to the ring, your hands weren't grasping and holding the top of your towel to keep it from falling off.

The entire time you walked down to the ring, you didn't hold on to your towel---not even the top of it.

Many grown men in the audience whistled at you as you walked down to the ring.

Jerry Lawler on commentary was happily perking up at the sight of you wearing that towel and nothing else, hoping your towel would fall off.

Jerry couldn't stop staring at you with a smile on his face and he hoped you were naked under that towel.

Many male fans in the audience were hoping and thinking your towel might fall off and hoping you were naked under that towel.

In fact, you really were naked under that towel, but your nudity was never shown in this episode or on camera.

Some male fans in the front row reached their hands and arms out in an attempt to yank your towel off.

However, you stayed away from those fans as you walked down to the ring and stood in front of it.

You smiled as you walked down to the ring.

D Generation X during the Attitude era would often have those awful seizure inducing entrances played on television when they walked down to the ring, such as when they'd briefly show a closeup of Triple H's face as he walked down to the ring and then after that is a short clip from DX's titantron of a bridge exploding, police running down the street or a female dancer on "Shotgun Saturday Night".

However, while you walked down to the ring, you as well as the camera wanted to focus on you walking down to the ring wearing that towel and your hands not holding it and not have your entrance be interrupted by clips of buildings falling down or a bridge exploding from DX's titantron.

You gingerly and carefully walked down to the ring while your hands didn't hold on to your towel.

Not to mention, your towel managed not to fall off the entire time you were inside the arena.

Your towel didn't fall off when you walked down to the ring nor did it fall off when you were standing near the ring.

And the craziest thing is, your hands never grasped or held on to the top of your towel while you were in the arena.

Your towel managed to stay and cover on your body the entire time.

While you looked cute in that towel and stiletto heels, it somewhat would've made sense if you wore just a towel and walked barefoot.

Although walking your barefeet on the floor next to the ring and down the runway is gross.

#triple h #attitude era #wwf

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thunderous-beauty · 1 year

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@ventrue-in-control I'm ready for my closeup~

I've got a darling three piece inspired by Clark Gable for when I'm not on the runway, what do you think?

[Selfie]

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vaniitas-store · 1 year

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A second look at the newly in spring 2007 Ann Demeulemeester cutaway blazer, inspired by a Victorian men's dinner jacket. We added a variation of men's formal coats from an 1890's pamphlet. So you can see the inspiration. The runway closeup shows layering of multiple waistcoats, almost resembling the cummerbund of the formal Vistorian dress suit.⁠ ⁠ We won't go too much into it, because we'll be making a small video about it. Stay tuned for a plethora of niche knowledge!!! https://www.instagram.com/p/CoHNFxZsLSo/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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marcmarcmomarc · 4 months

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Wings Around the Globe Rally

Leg 1: New York > Brazil (7,729 km)

AANG: Race fans, it’s that time of year again. Welcome to the Wings Around the Globe. I’m Avatar Aang, here with the rest of Team Avatar, Katara, Sokka, Toph Beifong, Fire Lord Zuko, and Suki, and this is the flagship event of the world’s fastest sport where only the best of the best compete.

KATARA: Each leg brings a new challenge, testing agility, navigation, and endurance. But when it’s all said and done, speed is the name of the game.

SOKKA (V.O.): The racers are making their way to the runway now. Twenty-seven contestants have been selected. Folks, a step onto this field is a step into history.

(The racers take their places on the starting grid.)

Starting line: JFK Airport in Queens, New York

Starting positions:

Agreste, Gabriel

Cash

Sancoeur, Nathalie

Ondine

Bourgeois, Chloé

Anciel, Marc

Hill, Aeon

Kurtzberg, Nathaniel

Kanté, Max

Keynes, Jessica

Couffaine, Juleka

Tsurugi, Kagami

Wang, Socqueline

Raincomprix, Sabrina

Lê Chiến-Ature, Kim

Haprèle, Mylène

Lee, Zoé

Kubdel, Alix

Lavillant, Rose

Lahiffe, Nino

Bruel, Ivan

Fathom, Félix

Delmar

Wu, Fei

Rossi, Lila

Césaire, Alya

Dupain-Cheng, Marinette

KNIGHTOWL: (OVER MIC) Racers, start your engines!

(All across the starting grid, propellers start to blur as the racers prepare for takeoff. Gabriel, Nathalie, Cash, Rose, Kim, Sabrina, Nino, Kagami, and Mylène receive closeups for them getting ready.)

AANG (V.O.): Seven legs. Over 31,000 kilometers. The world’s highest mountains and deepest oceans all stand before them, just waiting to be conquered by the right competitor.

ZUKO (V.O.): All the predictions, all the pageantry, all the preparation, it all comes down to this moment. One of these racers is about to fly off into the pages of sports history and become a champion.

(All of the racers are ready to start. Now they’re just waiting for the starting signal.)

MAJESTIA: (OVER MIC) Go!

(At the drop of the flag, the racers roar forward.)

TOPH (V.O.): And we are underway!

(The racers speed down the runway, climb into the air, over the ocean, and raise their landing gear. As they start to spread out, Gabriel takes an early lead, followed closely by Nathalie and Cash.)