#tdwp x reader

[kingpreciouswrld]

If you’re still accepting Miranda Priestly x Reader fic ideas i’ve got one!

Miranda and Reader have been married or a long time now secretly of course to prevent a media mishap. The reader is a stylist who sometimes stops to visit and help with a showcase, maybe she comes in casually to have lunch with Miranda and gets stopped by Andrea and Emily who try to get her to leave as they don’t know her(only Nigel does) and they’re both trying to tell Emily and Andrea that she’s allowed back there without exposing the marriage, eventually Miranda just comes out and asks why they’re touching her wife ( or something of the sort???) feel free to branch from this

ask and ye shall receive!

I hope you like it! It's been a while since I've written for anyone but myself :3

Nobody's Gonna Know

It’s an unusually busy day in your office. The clothes you’ve ordered haven’t arrived yet and your workers seem to not know how to conduct themselves in a manner without the very needed materials. You looked on through the glass doors as your workers ran around like headless chickens, trying to come up with something to show you before you needed to leave.

As a well-known stylist, it was your job to come up with new and creative or out-of-the-box looks to those who paid for your help. You mainly helped with showcases that Runway Magazine held and the clothes you needed today were actually from Runway Magazine. Through the grapevine you’ve heard that their workers were just as clueless as yours when it came to the clothes you were seeking.

As you sat in your little office, you thought back to when you first started out. You were a nobody, hell you weren’t even a New York local. No, you came from a small town in the middle of nowhere. Having nothing to your name, you first tried making it in California. You gained some traction which led you to move to New York. At first you were against it. You didn’t like big cities all that much, it just wasn’t your scene but you knew that your talent and job called for being around big things.

A year into the job, you attended a charity event where you were introduced to the one and only, Miranda Priestly. It was hard to read the woman at first but you saw it in her eyes, she liked you or at least, your work. That’s how it all started. You started to come and do jobs at Runway Magazine while also taking some jobs on the side. Not to mention the growing relationship between you and the editor which also included the lives of her rambunctious daughters and her slobbery saint bernard.

3 years passed and Miranda and you kept things underwraps. Heaven knows you’d have a field day for Page Six and their stinging words, so you have kept your relationship from everyone. Well, everyone except those closest to you.

Sighing, you looked at the clock. It was almost lunch time and Miranda didn’t like to be kept waiting.

You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “Annie, reschedule the runthrough until this afternoon. I’m sure Runway will do the same due to the circumstances with its clothing gone missing. I’m going out for lunch.” Your assistant nodded and frantically went to work at her computer as you passed her.

Making your way to Elias Clarke, you weaved through the small crowds before entering the building– blending in with the clackers around you. No one knew about your relationship with the fashion queen so you easily blended with crowds and you loved it. No one bothered you.

Until they did.

You had made your way up to Runway’s floors when you passed the front desk and made your way towards Miranda’s inner sanctum. You’ve been to Runway multiple times so no one blinked an eye as you strolled down the halls.

Reaching the outer office of Miranda’s, you haven’t intended to actually be stopped by her assistants.

Andy was the first to notice you as Emily was out.

“Oh! Y/n! I’m sorry but Miranda is in a meeting so you wouldn’t be able to go in right away.” 

You looked at the clock above the assistant’s desk. 11:56 am. Knowing your wife, you knew she wouldn’t mind if you interrupted her work. She never minded when you did it at home, so why would her workplace be different?

“Trust me, I think Miranda wouldn’t mind Andy. So I’m just gonna…”

You tried to step past the young woman but Andy just stepped in front of you. The assistant’s eyes widened as you tried to step past her again but she blocked your way through.

There was only so much you could do so you sighed as you looked back at the clock. 

11:58 am.

This time, you tried to listen for the soft voices coming from your wife’s office. There were only two that you could pick up on. One was, of course, Miranda’s but the other was a man’s voice. Somewhat…feminine? But not too feminine.

“Is it just Nigel and Miranda in there?”

As you tried stepping past the brunette, again she blocked your path.

“Look Y/n, if you keep this up I’m going to have to call security.”

At this time, Emily walked in and took in the scene in front of her, “Andrea? What’s going on here?”

As Andy was distracted, you tried to step past her again but only to be grabbed by the arm and pulled back, away from Miranda’s office door, “Woah! Okay, no touchy, alright? These cost more than your paycheck alright?”

Emily huffed and rolled her eyes but didn’t release you. Andy looked like she was nervous about losing her job. She knew you were stubborn and wouldn’t stop until you were able to see Miranda.

“Since you already have her, escort her to the lobby Em. She’s been trying to break into Miranda’s office. “ ‘Break into’? I’m just trying to see my– ugh, look, I’ll just wait alright? You guys don’t need to be so touchy about–”

Before you could finish your sentence, the brit was already moving towards the front desk area. You immediately stood your ground so the redhead would have a harder time moving you. You’d show them stubborn.

As the three of you were arguing and you were still struggling against Emily’s hold– you didn’t know how the redhead was this strong– you three failed to notice Miranda’s office door open.

“Look, if you let me go, i’ll make sure you still have your job at the end of the day, alright?”

Emily scoffed, “As if you’re so important here, you’re just a small town no one who just happened to meet Miranda and kiss her ass all the way till–”

“Is there a reason you’re restraining my wife?”

Both assistant’s straightened their posture at the cool voice before they realized what she said.

Emily gaped, looking like a fish out of water while Andy looked more afraid of losing her job this time.

Miranda’s eyes were still where Emily had a grip on you and she glared at the redhead, “Let. Go. Emily.” 

The brit let your arm go as if your arm burned her and you grumbled as you rubbed your arm, trying to soothe the lingering pain of Emily’s grip. Behind the editor, Nigel looked as if he was about to burst out laughing at the girls’ faces.

“Now, how about some lunch my love?”

#miranda priestly x reader #miranda priestly #tdwp

[stayevildarling]

Miranda Priestly x Wilhemina Venable x Reader - Dragon meets Purple, Part 2

word count: 2k

tw: none

taglist: @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay,@whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson,@isle-of-earle,@paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime

A few months had passed since Wilhemina officially became Mirandas second assistant. And despite their initial doubts about whether this would work or not it was going surprisingly well. Due to Wilhemina's experience Runway was working smoothly. Miranda was quite surprised by this but she also enjoyed working closely with someone who was close to her age for once. The only person not enjoying the situation was Emily, as she was suddenly the one running around New York to fetch coffees and chase designers down, while Wilhemina had more administrative work.

Today a particularly busy day is finally coming towards the end, most people have left the office by now and so the only ones left are Wilhemina and her boss. As the redhead sits at her desk, typing away at her computer, before getting up to walk to the printer, she sees Miranda standing in her office and signalling for Wilhemina to join her.

,,Care to join me for a drink Ms Venable?'' the slightly older woman asks.

Wilhemina raises an eyebrow, surprised by the invitation but at the same time intrigued.

,,Of course Ms Priestly, lead the way''.

Wilhemina watches as Miranda walks over to a golden drink trolley next to the sofa in her office. As she pours two glasses of scotch, Wilhemina can't help but look at her bosses features. Her jawline, the way her skirt complimented her legs.

,,I must admit Ms Venable, you have been rather impressive lately, I cannot deny your talents any longer'' she praises which takes the redhead by surprise.

Of course she knew the value of her work but she knew Miranda wasn't one to praise. As she takes a sip, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips ,,High praise coming from you Ms Priestly, I must be doing something right''.

Miranda chuckles softly ,,Indeed, though I must also confess your penchant for challenging authority can be rather... infuriating at times''.

Wilhemina raises her glass in mock toast before replying ,,Ah but where's the fun in playing by the rules Ms Priestly? Life is too short to be confined by limitations''.

Miranda simply smirks with a glint of adoration in her eyes. This had been exactly what she liked about Wilhemina, the sass, honestly and sarcasm. It was refreshing to the woman with assistants that usually obey her straight away and never talk back to her.

,,Spoken like a true maverick Ms Venable, perhaps there is hope for you yet'' Miranda replies with a smirk.

The smirk meets her straight back before Wilhemina counters ,,Perhaps Ms Priestly but don't hold your breath. I'm not one to change my ways easily''.

They chat for some more before they both head back towards their desk, wrapping up their work for the day and working through the upcoming Paris schedule.

-------

,,One more thing before we go to Paris, I'm promoting one of you''. Miranda explained. The office was quiet now, it was late and everyone had left.

,,Ms Venable I would like to offer you a higher position in HR'' Miranda explained, Emily's jaw dropping, in disbelief of the words she just heard from her bosses mouth.

,,What?!'' Emily asks. ,,She's only been here for six months, how come she's getting the promotion?''.

,,Oh get over yourself Emily, we both know that Ms Venable is way more qualified to work upstairs and have her own office rather than being my assistant''. her boss replies snappily.

,,I suggest you start working on finding me a new second assistant'' Miranda explains, dismissing Emily.

,,Thank you Ms Priestly'' Wilhemina finally speaks, a bit dumbfounded at what just happened. She had worked hard in the past couple of months, however she didn't expect a promotion.

,,May I ask why?'' Wilhemina adds.

,,Well, I had a feeling from the start you were meant to be more than an assistant and you certainly have proven you have the abilities to work upstairs. So I pulled some strings and you may work in HR from now on. You will get your own office and you won't have to- you know- run around as much for me'' Miranda explains, suddenly a softer side showing that Wilhemina hasn't gotten to see yet.

,,Thank you Ms Priestly'' Wilhemina smiles, touched by the gesture, trying to think if there was some ulterior motive to her decision.

,,By the way, I think it's time you call me Miranda by now, considering I won't be your direct boss anymore''.

,,Very well- Wilhemina'' she replies with a small smile. Now Miranda surprised as she hasn't seen a real smile from the redhead so far, being able to tell the difference from a fake polite one to a real one as she had do it most of her day.

They shake hands before they both head off, Wilhemina to inspect her new office and Miranda back to her desk, looking over her Paris schedule one more time. Miranda internally cringes as she hates the feel of Wilhemina's leather gloves.

After the elevator dings, Wilhemina steps into her new office, a small smile playing on her face as she sees her name on the door. She is quite fascinated by the view of New York and the size of her office. As she walks to her new desk, she finds a little box.

As she undoes the ribbon, she finds a purple pair of Chanel gloves inside them. She chuckles before collecting her things for the day and leaving.

As she heads downstairs to the elevator that exits the building she halts in the hallway as she sees a little light still in Mirandas office. ,,Good Night Ms. - Miranda'' she states as Miranda takes her eyes off the screen and looking at Wilhemina. She smirks satisfactiory as she sees the purple gloves already on the redheads hands. ,,Good Night'' she mumbles before carrying on with her work.

-------

Miranda sighs as she walks out of her office and towards the elevator, some files in her hand. Making her way upstairs, she suddenly notices the light still lit in Wilhemina's office. Miranda checks the time and realises it's past midnight. She thinks about turning back around, having dealt with too much interaction today but also needing those applications on Wilhemina's desk as it had been months since Paris and Emily still hasn't found a worthy second assistant.

Miranda knocks and opens the door in one swift motion finding Wilhemina on her computer. ,,Hire this one, Emily is taking far too long'' Miranda states before handing Wilhemina an application file.

They both look at each other for a moment, brown eyes meeting green ones. Silence filling the room as the same question played on both of their minds. ,,Do you need me to help out downstairs?'' Wilhemina breaks the silence first. ,,Pardon?'' Miranda questions.

,,I mean it's been months since Paris and if you need any help I would be quite happy to'' Wilhemina explains and is met with a sweet smile. ,,No- I'd just appreciate if you work through the application as quickly as possible''. Miranda replies with a grateful smile.

,,Why are you here so late?'' Miranda eventually asks. Wilhemina simply looks at her unable to really give her an answer but Miranda understood even without a word. She knew being a woman in this industry, the position not necessarily mattering, you had to get used to long hours in the office.

,,Do you need a lift? my driver should be outside.'' Miranda asks which takes Wilhemina by surprise. ,,No thank you Miranda but I'll walk out with you?'' she questions before being met with a nod and grabbing her bag and cane.

The elevator ride is quiet, Miranda containing a smile as she notices that Wilhemina had worn the Chanel gloves since she gave them to her. As they both walk past security and outside the building. New York being lit up and loud even in the middle of the night. Miranda walks over to her driver before she turns back towards Wilhemina.

,,I know this isn't exactly part of your job description but would you be free to join me for the launch dinner tomorrow evening?'' the question doesn't only take Wilhemina completely by surprise. Wilhemina had heard about the dinner and how much Miranda despised half of the people there. She doesn't quite understand why Miranda would like her company rather than Emily who certainly has more knowledge with these sort of things. Wilhemina had no idea that she had become a sense of comfort to Miranda, the usual strong woman, feeling safer in Wilhemina's presence. The question slipped her mind before she could think about it. Wilhemina being the stern HR she usually is, her mind takes her back that indeed this had no part in her job description but she felt intrigued. The last year in New York had helped the redhead realise that she didn't really have a personal life and she longed for one. So somehow as a result, a spontaneous Wilhemina comes to the surface, breaking through her usual high walls and agreeing. Miranda gives her a small but confused smile at her own question before making her way home.

-------

,,This will be your desk, you have big shoes to fill so please don't mess this up, considering Miranda chose you''. Emily explains as you listen to her instructions.

,,Understood'' you nod as you get familiar with your desk and computer.

The first couple of hours are quiet as Miranda was with a designer, presenting a new collection with Nigel. You walk around runway, getting to meet people you will be working with from now on before returning to your desk and working through the to-do list Emily has given you.

,,Miranda will be back in about thirty minutes, I'll send you a text with everyones coffee orders, please run to Starbucks and hurry up''. Emily explains.

Quickly, you grab your things and do as you are told, returning a short while later with the coffees.

After placing Miranda's coffee on her desk, you return to your own before Emily returns as well.

,,I have a coffee left for Wilhemina?'' you ask unfamiliar with the name.

,,Oh yes, remember the big shoes to fill? Well that's her, she works upstairs in HR now, please take it to Ms Venable'' Emily explains and you nod as you walk towards the elevator. As the elevator dings your eyes are met with Miranda.

She halts, recognising your face from the application. You had done your research, knowing not to directly address or bother Ms Priestly but her lack of movement and conversation, ushered you to make some.

,,Hello Ms. Priestly, my name is Y/N your new second assistant'' you introduce yourself before she takes her sunglasses off.

The woman scans you a second with a surprised look on her face. ,,Oh you are the assistant'' she states.

,,I was told you hired and chose me'' you reply slightly confused. The woman simply carries on scanning your body before replying ,,That's all'' and leaving towards her office.

Slightly dumbfounded and confused you make your way upstairs before knocking on Ms Venable's door.

,,Come in'' the redhead replies as you enter.

,,Hi, my name is Y/N, I'm Miranda's second assistant, I have your coffee here for you'' you explain before bending slightly, placing it in front of her.

,,Thank you'' she states and you can't help but notice her staring at you, specifically as you bend over slightly to hand her the coffee.

,,Oh and if you have any issues, for example with Emily, don't hesitate to come find me'' she states.

,,Why would I have any issues with Emily Ms Venable?'' you ask confused, considering its your first day.

,,Emily can be a bit demanding, given her position in this company'' Wilhemina replies .

,,Very well thank you Ms Venable'' you reply before heading back towards your desk, unbeknownst that her eyes followed until you left her office.

#wilhemina venable #sarah paulson #american horror story #sarah paulson x reader #Wilhemina Venable x reader #miranda priestly #miranda priestly x reader #the devil wears prada #tdwp #meryl streep #ahs #cordelia goode #billie dean howard #cordelia goode x reader #ahs coven #sarah paulson imagine #devil wears prada #emily blunt

[multimilfs]

Miranda Priestly x Fem!Reader: Public People in Private

Summary: Miranda Priestly + 67 “Uh, am I interrupting?”

Prompts found here!

A/N: Miranda… my beloved. I need to rewatch this movie so bad, it’s been ages

Full Ficmas List

Tag List: @imtrashinflames @escapetodreamworld @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul

Warning(s): None

“You can let me out here, Roy. I’m going up today.” 

“Are you sure? I had a… colorful message from Emily this morning.” Roy asks, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. 

“I’ll risk it,” You smile, “I might be able to help out. At the very least, I’ll distract her for a few minutes.” 

Roy nods and you step out in front of the Elias Clarke building. You weave through the crowds and inside without a hassle. The attendant stands up straighter upon seeing you, even after all this time. Nodding in greeting, he lets you through. 

The crowds seem to part as soon as you’re past the front desk. Tall, rail-thin models step out of your way, some even stepping out of the elevator when you get in. You want to shake your head at the treatment. 

It’s a short ascent to the Runway offices and you can see why Emily is so stressed. Models and staff scamper past, barely looking your way. The front desk is in shambles as several men in suits hound the receptionist. 

Milena, the poor girl, looks absolutely beaten. You check your watch and find you have a few minutes before Miranda is expecting you. 

“Is there something wrong here, gentleman?” You ask smoothly, stepping in beside Milena like it’s your rightful place. 

The tallest and meanest of the bunch turns on you. His suit is rumpled like he’s been tugging at it nervously, face red and splotchy with anger. 

Milena cuts in softly before he can throw anything your way, “They keep saying Miranda is expecting them, but they’re not in her schedule.” 

You pat her shoulder. 

“We do have an appointment!” He almost shrieks. 

You look him up and down, raising a brow. It shuts him up long enough for you to dial a familiar number. You hold up a finger to the men while the line rings. 

His fists clench at his sides. He looks like the lawyer type, which means he’s not used to being made to wait, let alone by a woman. 

“Miranda Priestly’s office.” Emily’s clipped voice comes down the line. 

“Hi Em,” You say sweetly, “I’ve got three men waiting with Milena, claiming they’ve got an appointment on the books. Is there anything in her schedule?”

“Of course not. She has lunch with you.” 

“That’s what I thought. Thank you, Em.” You return the phone to the cradle and give a sharp smile, “You’re not on the schedule, gentleman. I trust you know where the elevators are and if you’ve forgotten, security will be more than happy to escort you.” 

“I’ll have your job, Miss—” One of the other men says. 

You grin deviously, “It’s Mrs, actually. Mrs. Priestly.” 

All three men blanch. Milena tries to cover her grin as you step around the desk. She discreetly dials the security line, watching you with bated breath. 

The tallest doesn’t look so mean now. When you step up to him, he takes a half-step back. You almost regret Miranda not being here to bear witness; you learned it from her, after all. 

When the elevator sounds and the doors open, the head of security and two of his burliest men step out. Milena nods in the direction of the three men you’re staring down. Tearing your eyes away for a moment, you nod.

“Clark.” You acknowledge the head of security. 

“Mrs. Priestly,” He says, “Is there a problem here?” 

“No problem. These gentlemen just need some assistance finding the lobby.” 

Clark nods and his two men step forward and usher the red-faced men from Runway. You watch them go with a satisfied smile. Folding your arms over your chest, you turn to the man at your side.

“Do we know how they got up here?”

“Front desk says they had an appointment with Mr. Ravitz this morning. They must have come straight from his office.” 

Your lip curls, “Irv. Of course.” 

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” 

“That’s all, Clark. Thank you.” 

He leaves without further fanfare. You watch as he sends a warm smile Milena’s way. Her responding blush makes you pause. Interesting development, you think, trying not to let your thoughts show on your face. 

Collecting your bag and accepting Milena’s heartfelt thanks, you continue back towards Miranda’s office. You wince when you catch sight of a clock. You’re five minutes later than you should be, but all you can do is hope your wife isn’t too upset. 

Following the familiar pathway to the offices, you try not to shake your head when nearly a dozen models and staff members scare upon seeing you. Honestly, you think, I wasn’t nearly as bad as Emily. Must just come with marrying the Editor-in-Chief, you decide. 

Speaking of Emily, the brit is boredly explaining something over the phone. You offer a small wave and she sends you a surprisingly-genuine smile. 

Miranda isn’t alone in her office; you can hear her soft voice bickering with someone else. Peering in, you see Nigel standing in front of her, hands motioning this way and that as he explains something. 

Knocking on the office door, “Uh, am I interrupting?” 

Both look up. Miranda’s severe expression softens slightly. When she checks the watch on her wrist, her lips purse and you know you’re not getting away with your tardiness, but she doesn’t say anything about it. 

“Not at all, darling. Come in.” Miranda stands. 

You meet Nigel in the middle of the office and exchange air kisses. He pulls back and looks you over, nodding approvingly. 

“New boots?” He asks. 

“They’re last season, actually.” You say, then stage-whisper, “Don’t tell Miranda.” 

“Oh honey, I wouldn’t dare.” Nigel winks. 

He gives Miranda a small nod and takes his leave. You cross around the desk to accept your usual kiss on the cheek. She’s a little slower to grant it today and you lean back, raising a brow.

“You’re late.” 

“There was a situation at the front desk,” You answer easily, “I would have been early, but Milena needed the help.” 

“If she needs help doing her job then perhaps she’s better suited for employment elsewhere.” Miranda says. 

“You know that isn’t what I meant.” 

“Do I?”

“Miranda.” You glare, “If you fire Milena I’m going to be extremely cross.” 

She rolls her eyes. Pulling out a few paper menus, she hands them over, and you peruse today’s selections. Smith and Wollensky rests on top and you try not to laugh. Miranda always puts her preferred option on the very top, but lets you have the final choice. 

You could go for a steak. And you should probably tread carefully with your lateness. 

Handing over the Smith and Wollensky menu, she nods, looking pleased. She calls Emily in to rattle off your orders while you move over to the couch in her office. 

Emily takes the notes dutifully. You wonder where the new second assistant is, having heard some interesting murmurs about her over the past few days. Emily was suitably frustrated with her—as was Miranda—but Nigel and Serena had been a little more kind. She was out of her depth, but meant well, that was the final verdict. 

You hardly notice when Emily leaves until Miranda sits down next to you. Leaning back against the couch, she eyes you. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask. 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re trying to figure me out.” 

Miranda chuckles, “Darling, figuring you out will take more than my lifetime.” 

“I can never tell if statements like that are a compliment or insult.” You narrow your eyes. 

“For you?” Miranda raises a brow and pretends to think on it, before her face softens infinitesimally, “A compliment.” 

“Miranda Priestly, are you going soft on me?” You tease, but lean into her space, “Imagine what that’d do to your reputation.” 

“I have.” 

There’s a look in her eyes you can’t decipher. You try not to think about it too much, stealing a quick kiss, trying not to badly damage her lipstick.

“So, tell me about today.”

You lean back and settle in for Miranda’s usual spiel about the incompetence of her employees, watching her fondly. 

#miranda priestly #miranda priestly x reader #the devil wears prada #tdwp #the devil wears prada x reader #miranda priestly imagine #the devil wears prada imagine #wlw #wlw imagine #dec2022 #multimilfswritings #multimilfsficmas2022

[romanoffsdarling]

The Devil Wears Prada || Part One

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader // Peter Parker x Fem!Reader 

Chapter Summary: Today is the big day of your job interview— where you’ll truly figure out who you’ll be working with— that could potentially set you on the track for your dream job. Will everything go according to plan?

Word Count: 3,477

Chapter Warnings: Some self-esteem hits (fashion industry).

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy the first part of this series! I’m super excited as TDWP is one of my all-time favorite movies. And, yes, Peter will be acting as the Nate in this series but will be more like book Nate than movie Nate (but he will also be his own character too, of course). Some of the dialogue comes from the script but I promise, as things deepen in a different way between you and Wanda, things will steadily shift. 

Series Masterlist

Streaks of gold, with the smallest undertones of the purest white and the lightest flecks of silver, filter in from the half-opened curtains of the medium-sized windows within the place you have called home for the last two years. The sounds of horns blaring, faint shrieks of ambulances, and the distant chatter of voices in the streets below, signify the daily life of the inhabitants of New York City was just beginning.

While the day, for you, would signify that you’d finally be on the right path to achieve the goals you’ve set out for since you were little.

“Are you sure this job is right for you, Y/N/N?” The teasing question comes from the open doorway of the small bathroom situated in your Manhattan apartment. Your gaze shifts from the mirror-- as you were checking your chosen outfit once more-- to the amused one of your boyfriends. Light brown eyes sparkle with flecks of gold as his toothbrush hangs haphazardly out of the side of his mouth; his next words were slightly garbled because of it. “I mean you’ve never been that fashion conscious before.”

Your lips upturn into a smile. “I’m well aware of that, Peter.” You return your attention back to the mirror. “But we both know that working for a magazine like Runway will only heighten my chances at being able to work at credible newspapers.”

Peter holds up his finger as he disappears from sight and the sound of him spitting into the sink, followed by the brief gargling of mouth wash, resounds across the apartment before he appears once more. His hands wipe down the legs of his sweatpants as he makes his way towards you. “I know that I’m just worried that this job won’t be everything you think it will be.” Nimble fingers come up to gently tuck a strand of errant hair out of your face when he halts in front of you. “I just want you to be safe, Y/N/N.”

Leaning into his touch, you place a soft kiss on his fingertips. “I think I’ll be able to manage a couple of models, Pete.” You step closer to rest your head on his chest for a brief hug; comforted by the sound of his strong heartbeat. “And your number is speed dial one if I need you for anything.”

He wraps his arms around your waist and gives a light squeeze in response. “Call me to tell me how it goes. And Y/N?” You tilt your head up to look into his sparkling gaze. “Make sure to show them all what a kickass assistant you’ll make.”

An amused laugh leaves your lips at his enthusiastic support. “I’ll make sure to remember that.” You glance down at your watch and wince at the time it shows. “But, if I want to make the subway, I have to leave now. I’ll make sure to fill you in, in person when we go out for drinks tonight.”

You’re already out the door as Peter yells out his response; the good humor in his voice never leaving. “I’ll hold you to that, Y/L/N.”

Runway Magazine wasn’t one you were truly familiar with. Though, to be fair, you weren’t familiar with that many magazines to begin with; it would be a better fit than Auto Universe at least.  You did, however, know how much money it seemed to be worth; a fact that’s hammered home as you pause outside of the Elias-Stark building. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the massive building that towers into the New York City skyline. 

It’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be, you observe with a small frown. Maybe I am out of my league with this one, but I wasn’t raised to be a quitter and I certainly won’t let a few insecurities ruin my chances for my dream career. 

Stepping into the building was like stepping into a whole other world. Various people flitting from corner to corner, racks of clothes being transported to undisclosed locations, and the amount of designer clothes mixed with the beauty of the people wearing them fills you with a sense of unease. You tug at the thick material of your sweater-- a deep blue one that Peter had gifted you a few months before-- as you stop by the security desk to get a visitor pass. 

“Y/N?” An accented voice calls from your right as the sound of heeled footsteps approach you. Offering a brief smile in thanks to the security guard that had just given you your pass, you turn your gaze to the approaching redhead. Was everyone in this place ridiculously attractive? 

Your inner thoughts fortunately don’t reflect on your face as the woman stops in front of you; an almost bored expression on her face as she looks you up and down. “HR does seem to have a sense of humor.” The redhead-- that you assume to be Natasha; from the phone call you had gotten detailing your appointment with her-- sniffs as she gestures for you to follow. “Okay, I was Wanda’s second assistant but her first recently got promoted. So, now I’m her first.”

You both pause as Natasha presses the up button for the elevator. Noting how stressed the redhead seemed to be you attempt to alleviate the heavy tension that was beginning to form. “So, you’re pretty much replacing yourself?”

The other woman side eyes you as she steps onto the lift-- forcing you to scramble in after her-- and only responds after she pushes the button for Floor 17. “I’m trying to do so, yes.”

A confused frown furrows your brow at that. She was trying to? What the hell does that mean? Am I only one that has applied for this job?

Seemingly knowing where you mind went to, Natasha explains in an airy, almost disinterested, voice. “Wanda sacked the last two girls after a few weeks.” Before you’re given the chance to respond, Natasha steps off the elevator as it arrives on the designated floor. Not even waiting to see if you were following, which you were, as she continues to explain. “You need to have a certain backbone to be able to thrive at Runway. I need--” She exhales sharply through her nose. “We need to find someone that can survive here. Do you understand?”

You nod sharply, narrowly avoid getting nailed by a frantic looking man, as you rush to keep up with Natasha. “Yes,” you agree, but a question pops into your mind that you needed to voice. “Who’s Wanda?”

Natasha halts, her head whipping around to stare at you with a widened gaze. “You didn’t just ask me that.” She exhales through her nose sharply once more before continuing her earlier trek through the bustling halls; once again forcing you to keep up. How the hell was she moving so fast in heels that big? “Wanda is the Editor-in-Chief of Runway, and a living legend within the fashion community. Work a year for her and you’ll be able to find a job at any magazine you could hope for.”

Exactly what I was hoping for. 

Opening a sleek glass door, Natasha leads you into a room with two desks facing one another-- on the outskirts of two other glass doors that lead into a much bigger office-- that you can guess is where the assistants reside throughout the day. Turning around, Natasha appraises you with sharp green eyes. “Millions of girls would kill for this job.”

You smile. “That sounds great, I’d love to be considered.”

The redhead’s brow furrows at that. “Y/N--” She pinches the bridge of her nose before continuing in a clearly strained voice. “Runway is a fashion magazine. An interest in fashion, beyond the base level, is crucial.”

Amusement flairs through you-- at least if you get this job, you’ll have one thing to brighten your day; see how worked up you could get Natasha-- as your smile remains. Although you adopt a faux innocent tone as you tilt your head. “What makes you think that I don’t have an interest in fashion?”

It was a question that you knew would raise Natasha’s hackles, which it does, but the retort dies on crimson-painted lips as she glances down at the beeping phone in her hand. Green eyes widen with horror as a gasp escapes her. “Oh, dear God. No, no, no, no.”

Confusion wells within you once more. Was this going to be a common occurrence? You not knowing what the hell was going on? “What’s wrong?”

Natahsa ignores you as she rushes to the desk on the left; her well-manicured nails quickly typing out a number on the desk-phone as she brings it to her ear. When it connects, she simply hisses out one statement before slamming it back down onto the receiver: “She’s on her way. Tell everyone.”

There seemed to be a moment of calm serenity before the office behind you burst into a frantic panic you’ve never seen before. People rushing back to their desk, women slipping out of sandals into heels, food getting thrown away, and various other things that flicker passed your gaze too quickly for you to notice. 

The next thing you know a sharply dressed man-- in a midnight blue suit-- walks into the room. “She was supposed to be coming in at nine. What the hell happened?” 

The clearly frazzled First Assistant runs a hand through her hair. “Her driver just messaged me. Apparently, her usual facialist ruptured a disk.” Standing, Natasha throws her hands into the air. “God! These people.”

What the absolute hell was happening? 

Shifting your weight, you finally garner the attention of the man who’s blue eyes shroud with confusion of his own. “Natasha, who is this?” 

The woman barely glances up from the documents on her desk as she waves her hand. “I don’t even want to talk about it.”

Seemingly not willing, or not having the time, to argue with Natasha, the man gives you one last glance before he pops his head into the hallway. “Man, your battle stations everyone!”

Even more chaos erupts at his words, but your gaze maintains its locked position on Natasha as she rushes into a side-door of the bullpen, reappearing a moment later with a tall glass and bottle of Pellegrino. Both of which she side-arms as she quickly takes the various magazines and newspapers into her free hand as she rushes into the bigger office. It seems that running was the normal walk within Runway. 

“You’re still here,” Natasha mutters, almost to herself, as she reappears to stand beside her desk. Her attention shifting for only a moment as the paper she was waiting for was finally done printing, which she instantly attached to her clipboard. “Go.”

Pushing off the chair you had been seated in-- was this really how this job interview was going to end-- an almost panicked look flashes across Natasha’s face before she waves you back down. “No, I don’t want you to pass her. We’ll just have to pray that she doesn’t notice you.”

Settling back down, you nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. This was exactly like self-esteem camp. How quaint. 

So lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice that a quiet hush had fallen over the offices outside. A strained, yet professional, smile appearing on Natasha’s face as she disappeared from the room to meet the woman that had caused the commotion to begin with. You’re only keyed into her presence whenever her soft voice filters past your ears. 

“--- How hard is it to find a decent looking paramedic? Also, I need to see what Steve has called in for Gwenyth’s second cover try.”

Looking up, you’re met by the sight of gorgeous auburn-haired woman-- clothed in a form fitting white blouse, black pencil skirt, and black heels with red bottoms-- with an air of controlled disinterest as she tossed a black coat and purse onto Natasha’s desk. Said woman having followed dutifully behind her, jotting down notes, as the woman-- who you presume was Wanda-- spoke. 

As she enters her office, she calls softly over her shoulder. “Who is that?”

Natasha winces at the question-- seemingly hoping that Wanda would have been unobservant for once-- as she tries to come up with a proper response. “Nobody,” she replies, knowing that she would have to elaborate as that wouldn’t be a sufficient answer for Wanda. “Human resources sent her for the assistant job, and I was pre-interviewing her for you, but--”

Whatever Wanda does stops Natasha’s words in their tracks, but you don’t have to wonder for long as her smooth voice speaks up once more. “I’ll do it. The last two you sent me were complete disappointments.” There’s a brief moment of silence. “Send her in.”

A moment later Natasha appears and gestures for you to get up. “She’d like to see you.” Seemingly moving too slowly for the red heads liking she urges you forward. “Go on.”

Not needing to be told twice-- especially with the look Natasha was giving you-- the quick walk to Wanda’s office happens in record time as you stop in front of the modern desk. Trying not to look around too much at the chic design-- the space being perfectly clean, and the walls littered with pictures from designers you’d never be able to name-- but it was the woman seated behind the desk that truly drew you in. Her attention wasn’t on you, but you were certain she knew you were there, as she browses the magazine situated in front of her; deep auburn waves falling around her. 

“Who are you?” The question almost startles you; having gotten used to the silence, but you have a feeling that you shouldn’t keep the woman waiting for long. Especially not when her emerald eyes finally peer up from the papers and almost feel like they’re staring into your soul. 

You nervously place your resume on the desk in front of Wanda-- which she ignores-- as you introduce yourself. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” At the continued silence, you could feel your own nerves beginning to rise. “I recently graduated from--”

Wanda interrupts what would have undoubtedly been a rambling mess of a spiel. “What are you doing here?”

That seems easy enough. “I think that I could do a great job as your assistant and--”

Your words falter at the look Wanda bestows onto you; a part of yourself withering within you because of it. 

Not knowing what to do you begin talking. “I came to New York to become a journalist and I sent letters out to everyone. Elias-Stark gave me a call and Sherry detailed the opening in your department. Basically--” You sigh. “It was either this or Auto Universe.”

You want to die at the extent of your honesty, but Wanda seems to be taking it in. Maybe there was still a chance for you to get this job?

“So, you don’t read Runway?”

Strike One.

“No.”

Wanda raises a brow. “And, before today, you had never heard of me?”

Strike Two.

“No.”

“And you have no style or sense of fashion.”

Strike Three. You’re out.

“That depends on--”

A hard look flits over Wanda’s emerald gaze. “That wasn’t a question.”

Feeling desperate-- as this was the job that would open so many doors for you-- words tumble out of your mouth despite yourself. “I was Editor-in-Chief at the Daily Northwestern. I won a national competition for college journalists with a series on the janitor’s union--”

Wanda, seemingly having enough of you, holds up her hand. Her airy voice holding a whole new level of disinterest. “That’s all.”

The abruptness doesn’t stop your tirade, however. “That uncovered the exploitation of--”

The look Wanda pins you with could burn a hole through an iceberg, which really hammers in the point that you had just screwed up exponentially by trying to get this job. Feeling defeated, and a little downtrodden, you turn around and make your way to the door. Only to pause, well aware of the gaze still burning into you, as you turn back to meet it. 

“Okay, you’re right.” You gesture to your outfit as you keep your chin up. “I clearly don’t fit in here. I’m not glamorous or stick-level skinny and I don’t know much about fashion. But I’m smart, I learn fast, and I will work very hard.”

As your words peter out-- with some of your bravado fading-- Wanda simply stares impassively at you, not giving anything away, until the familiar male voice from earlier speaks up behind you. 

“We got the exclusive on the yellow Cavalli for Gwyneth, the one he showed with a huge, feathered headpiece, but she’ll look like she’s working the mainstage at the Golden Nugget, so instead--”

The man stops abruptly once he notices you, but you don’t pay him any mind as you offer Wanda a slight smile. “Thank you for your time.”

With that you exit the office as quickly as you can-- still feeling the effects of Wanda’s gaze on your body-- as you breathe a soft sigh through your nose. The job interview may not have gone as you wanted it to, but at least you stepped out of your comfort zone. 

Fortunately, the elevator ride down was quick, and you were alone-- leaving you to mope in your thoughts-- as you try to figure out where exactly everything had turned so wrong. It was those thoughts that plagued you as you gave back your visitor pass, offering a cordial goodbye, and made your way to the rolling doors of Elias-Stark. 

It was only the familiar accented voice calling from behind you that made you stop in your tracks. Your head whipping around to meet Natasha’s perturbed expression. She didn’t speak but the gesture for you to follow her was all that she needed to do. 

It seems that you had been able to do something right after all. 

“I still can’t believe you got a job at a fashion magazine,” Bucky murmurs, amusement dancing through his blue gaze. “Though, Wanda Maximoff is known for being unpredictable.”

You shake your head-- a fond smile curling your lips-- as you swat Peter’s hand away from encroaching on your fry territory. 

“Okay.” You shoot a glare towards Peter as he swiftly steals a fry, before turning your gaze back to Bucky. “How do you know who she is, and I don’t?”

Bucky grins. “I’m just more attuned with that sort of stuff than you, Y/N.”

A soft chuckle from Bucky’s right causes you to shift your gaze to amused brown. “That would make sense,” MJ teases. “It would explain a lot actually.”

Ignoring her teasing, he continues. “Seriously, Wanda is a big deal. She’s the youngest Editor-in-Chief in Runway history and doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.” He shrugs halfheartedly at you. “I’m sure millions of girls would kill for the job you have.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” You were told this mere hours ago. “But I’m not one of those girls.”

“Hey,” Peter smoothly interjects; popping, yet another, one of your fries into his mouth. “Everyone has to start from somewhere, right? I’m just a bus-boy pretty much, but I know that I’ll be able to get my chance if I just try hard enough. Plus, MJ does--” Peter waves his hand in the general direction of your shared friend before a frown furrows his brow. “What is it that you do at your gallery?”

“My job,” MJ replies cheekily. “But fry cook here is right, Y/N/N, everyone starts from somewhere.”

“Fortunately for me I already have my dream job.”

Three sets of eyes turn to look at Bucky. 

“You’re a corporate research analyst.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, but I get free bagels on Tuesday’s and some booze at times. It totally rocks.”

There’s a brief moment of silence before Bucky cracks. 

“You’re right my job is totally boring,” he sighs, but his jovial grin doesn’t slip from his face as he maintains eye contact with you. “At least you won’t be bored working for the Devil within the fashion industry.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, slinking back into your seat. “Lucky me.”

As your friends and boyfriend, continue to chatter around you can’t shake the memory of those burning green eyes. The way the light had reflected off of those auburn waves and the sheer command she had over a room without needing to raise her voice. 

You don’t know why but the idea that Wanda Maximoff was the Devil didn’t sit well with you, but you didn’t truly know her yet. 

Only time would tell... 

You just hope you were prepared for what it would bring. 

#wanda maximoff x reader #avengers imagine #mcu imagine #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel imagines #the devil wears prada #peter parker x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader

[multifandomfix]

Remnants Of Her - Miranda Priestly

Summary: You have a one night stand with Miranda and it doesn’t end well.

Word Count: 1,945

Warnings: Implied Smut, Angst

You woke to the sound of the bedsheets rustling next to you. Opening your eyes to the early morning light filtering through your blinds, you made out Miranda's form. Your eyes traveled from her tousled silver hair down the pale expanse of her naked back. She was a vision in this light, in any light, really. She rose to collect her clothes that were strewn across your floor in the haste of the night before. You heard her curse under her breath, but you didn’t dare ask her what was wrong.

She then vanished into your bathroom to dress and your eyes were fixed on the door as if there was a chance that she really would disappear from there without you seeing it. Realizing that was crazy, you looked away and searched instead for the undergarments you were wearing last night. Having located them fairly easily, you got out of bed and slipped into them, not bothering with the rest for now.

As you sat yourself back in bed, Miranda emerged from the bathroom, calmly but intently trying to smooth the wrinkles from her dress. "Oh, you’re awake," Miranda remarked with a raise of her eyebrow as she looked up to find you watching her. Bending over and swiping her shoes from off the floor, she came back to bed to put them on.

Rustling the sheets, you shuffled across the bed until you sat just behind her. You placed your lips against her neck, but she recoiled. "This can’t happen again," Miranda stated, slipping one of her Manolo Blahniks back on her foot. The words stung. You’d suspected they were coming, but you didn’t want to believe it. You hadn’t prepared yourself for just how much they would wound you when she did say them. You opened your mouth to protest, but Miranda wouldn’t hear it. "It never should have happened to begin with."

Your heart ached. You longed to fight her on it, but once Miranda had made up her mind about something there was little anyone could do to change it. And it seemed that she’d more than made up her mind about you.

She rose one final time from your bed, her heels now clacking against your hardwood floor as she went to fetch her coat off the coatrack. It was the one thing that didn’t end up on the floor. Without even a final glance over her shoulder, Miranda showed herself out, knowing there’d be a car waiting to take her home.

Your door clicked softly shut and that was it. She was gone. Only your memories could hold onto the Miranda you knew last night. The old Miranda, the usual one you dealt with day in and day out, had returned. She’d never speak of it again and you’d be out of a job if you so much as dared to broach the subject.

In order to try and forget the whole thing, you walked into the bathroom, intent on taking a shower and scrubbing her from your skin. But the room smelled of Miranda's perfume. She must have had a bottle in her purse and sprayed it to freshen up. And that wasn’t the only reminder she’d left in her wake. The dark reddish purple mark on your neck that you spotted in the mirror was further proof of your ill fated tryst with the woman you both idolized and adored.

You fled the bathroom before you broke into tears, but all you could think was how Miranda would hate you for being like this. No one deserves your tears, she’d probably say. Not even her, you wondered? You breathed deeply, willing yourself to calm down. It only lasted until you saw the black lace sticking out from under the corner of the bed.

So there was another piece of herself Miranda had left behind for you. It must have been the underwear that caused Miranda to curse earlier when she couldn’t find them. You picked them up off the floor and brought them into bed with you. You also grabbed the pillow she’d used, clutching both tight to your chest as you finally let the tears flow. This was it for you now, these pieces, these remnants of her. You’d never have anything more.

Later that morning, you finally picked up the phone and called Emily. You needed to take the day off, wallow in your self pity for the next twenty four hours before seeing Miranda's face again. Get it all out of your system. Or try.

She picked up on the second ring. "I’m sick. I’m not coming in today," you said before Emily could even say hello. A little blunt and to the point, but you didn’t trust yourself to make a big speech of it. At least all the crying you’d been doing made you sound genuinely sick.

"Miranda's not going to like that, but as long as you promise to be in tomorrow, I’ll cover for you."

"Thank you. And if you could not mention anything to her, I’d appreciate it. Unless she asks." Which she won’t, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t afford to explain the whole thing to Emily right now.

"Alright. Feel better. I’ll see you tomorrow."

You hung up without a goodbye, feeling another round of tears threatening to overcome you. If only saying 'feel better' was a cure to your heartbreak. Most of your day after your call was spent curled up in bed, knees to your chest, Miranda's panties still clutched in your iron grip. God, you were pathetic. What had you been expecting? Did you truly think that you’d get Miranda Priestly into your bed and she’d fall in love with you by morning? You knew what this was, Miranda had made it more than clear. You could have refused her, should have refused her, but you never could say no to her. Not for anything.

The following morning, you were still feeling down, but getting out of bed didn’t feel like as much of a chore. Your stomach growled, having not ate much in the past day, and you grabbed a bite to eat before picking out what to wear. You might not have felt your best, but you had to look it. Everyone would be suspicious if you didn’t.

You donned a suitable outfit, and went to the bathroom mirror to apply a bit of makeup to cover your dark circles before noticing the mark Miranda left on your neck once more. You blinked back a momentary hot sting of tears, not letting them win this time and picked out a scarf to throw around your neck. It was good enough.

When you walked in and put your things at your desk, you looked up to see Emily giving you a worried look. "She wants to see you," Emily said ominously, and instantly a lump formed in your throat. You gave her a curt nod in response. The walk to Miranda's office felt at once too fast and like moving through jello.

"You weren’t in yesterday," Miranda noted the moment the door clicked closed behind you.

"No," you confirmed, unsure of what else to say on the matter. To your relief she didn’t press further. Yet she remained looking at you, evaluating you over the rim of her glasses. Boldly, you turned to leave, not yet having been dismissed.

"Wait," Miranda ordered. Though hardly raising her voice, you froze in place, obeying immediately. "I want them back," she said next. You knew what she meant. She didn’t have to elaborate.

"Then you’ll have to come back and get them," you replied, not knowing where your sudden confidence had come from. Having those panties was the only leverage you had in this situation and some part of your brain told you to use that against her.

If you could see Miranda's face right now, you’d bet a brief yet controlled look of surprise at your audacity had graced it. You also could have sworn you heard an aggravated huff to your statement, which caused a small grin to form on your lips. "Very well. That’s all."

As you stepped out of the office, your heart was pounding. Never had you had the gall to speak to Miranda like that. Maybe it was the fact that you couldn’t see her face that aided you in your emboldened power move. Now, at least, you had an opportunity to talk to her about that ill fated night.

The rest of the day you held your breath every time Miranda came out of her office and passed by you. If Emily noticed, she had the decency not to ask about it. You went home several minutes early, wanting to be well prepared for Miranda's arrival later. That is, if she decided it was important enough to her to do so. While, you could have simply handed them over to her right in her office, having hastily shoved them in your purse before you left because you didn’t know what else to do with them, you made your choice. If she wanted them back, she could come and get them, or forget the whole damn thing.

Your heart skipped a beat when the light knock finally fell on your door. You hadn’t counted on her actually showing up. Now she was here and you didn’t really have a plan.

You opened the door quickly, a habit that came with working for Miranda, knowing she hated to be kept waiting. She simply stared you down, hand out, waiting for you to hand over what she came for so she could be on her way. You went to grab them, hoping to give yourself a moment to think.

You came back to the door, panties in hand, with an ultimatum. "You can take these, leave and let me quit and move on, or you can tell me why these were so damn important that you showed up in person."

"They're—"

"Beautiful, but nothing special. I could tell if they were designer. I do work for you, remember?" You matched her icy stare, daring her to snatch them from you and take off, admitting defeat.

"Would you like me to admit that I came here just to see you again, and have me run into your arms? You knew my terms."

"I did," you confessed, trying to keep your emotions from taking over. "But you never asked about mine. You never gave any consideration to the fact that I might love you." So much for keeping your emotions in check. This seemed to stun Miranda and you fell quiet. What could you even say now that you poured out your very heart and soul?

The ice in her gaze melted into something much softer than you’d ever seen from Miranda before. "I’m…sorry." The words hung in the air between you for several tense moments as Miranda dropped her eyes to the hardwood floor below. "Do you— do you really love me? I mean, how could you, the way I—"

You cut her off. She was rambling. Miranda Priestly never rambled. You must have really shaken her. "Miranda?"

"Hmm," she replied, finally meeting your eyes again.

"Call me crazy if you want, but I do love you. Or, I could, if you let me."

"I see," Miranda said after a beat. "Well, I’ll take those," she went on, and you felt your heart begin to break anew. So this was it then, you thought as Miranda took her underwear from you and tucked them away in her purse. "The rest, we can discuss over dinner. How’s tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is good."

For @thylordshipofbutts

Miranda Priestly: @iticaboopsyou, @derry-n, @ladysc, @russian-soft-bitch

#miranda priestly #miranda priestly one shot #miranda priestly x reader #the devil wears prada #the devil wears prada one shot #tdwp #tdwp one shot #request #send requests #requests open

[russian-soft-bitch]

This one was the idea of @dani885-xox (tumblr can't find it for some reason):

Hi just saw that you want to do more Miranda story’s so here my idea 💡 Miranda looking for a dress that was in the closet days ago at runway making everyone look for it. Then y/n walks in wearing it to meet her for lunch. Miranda looks up at Y/n smile. Putting runway to a holt as your wearing the dress and she smiles not tearing you apart and everyone wonders who you are you proceeded to pick up her hand and say are you ready to go

Thank you for the idea 😊 hope you like it!

The Dress

- everything started a couple of months ago

- this year is jubilant for Runway, so it was decided to create a special issue of the magazine

- Miranda, being the perfectionist that she is, decided to do everything herself

- she just started to pick outfits for the photo shoot that'll take place at the time square, she already had certain outfits in mind

- everyone started to freak out the moment she decided to inspect the closet

- Miranda picked a couple of outfits already when she decided to go to the section with dresses

- She was thinking about that white Valentino dress that had spaghetti straps and shuttlecocks on the sides. She remembered about the bag that will look really nice with that dress and imagined what kind of hair style will look just right

- so when she couldn't find the dress, she was furious. Miranda clearly remembered that she saw that dress in that exact place just a week ago

- that's when the hell broke loose

- "is it that hard to keep track of all the clothes? I just don't understand"

- everyone was really freaking out because the dress just disappeared

- when people were looking for the dress for over 25 minutes and Miranda was standing there rolling her eyes, you walked into the room in that dress

- you looked around confused, "what's happening?"

- when they saw you in the dress, everyone just stopped and gasped

- they were expecting Miranda to just tear you apart but what they saw was just unbelievable

- Miranda looked at you, I mean took you in in that dress, and smiled

- while everyone was thinking about who the hell you are, you walked up to her and gently put your hand on her elbow, then took her hand in yours and said, "are you ready to go yet? I'm starving!"

#meryl streep x reader #Meryl Streep #Miranda Priestly #miranda priestly x reader #the devil wears prada #TDWP #The Devil wears Prada imagines

[reformedkingsmanagent]

I have enough written to post but not enough time to edit/format it. Surprised with the news I have to present at an event tomorrow so I’ve got a presentation to work on. Bye Saturday. Tomorrow afternoon I should be able to get something up. And work was genuinely crazy today. So yeah. I’m sorry!

#1917 #gonna post some #william schofield x reader #stuff tomorrow #and now my upstairs neighbors are blasting country music... #COUNTRY MUSIC?????? #think I’m gonna counter with some tdwp

[stayevildarling]

Miranda Priestly x Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Dragon meets Purple, Part 3

word count: 2k

tw: hints of smut

taglist: @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay,@whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson,@isle-of-earle,@paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime

Fast forward a couple of weeks and you had finally somewhat settled into your new job. Runway was demanding for sure, constantly being on your feet, having to assist Miranda's needs. Being bossed around by Emily. But somehow you loved it, the behind the scenes of all the fashion shows, the possibility of going to Paris and you didn't exactly mind your two direct bosses Ms Priestly and Ms Venable.

Today was a somewhat ordinary day, Miranda in meetings most of the day, an event she was attending tonight but alone as it was more of a dinner. It was a Friday and that usually meant you could leave a bit earlier.

It's currently around lunchtime and you know by now that Ms Priestly prefers her usual Starbucks by the time she gets back. Having finished your tasks for today, you make your way there, picking up everyones usuals before heading back to work.

As you return Emily wasn't there, assuming she is still at lunch with her friend Serena. You simply place her coffee on her desk before opening your bosses door, assuming she is still gone as her calendar is blocked another hour.

Opening the door, your breath gets caught in your throat as you see your boss sitting there with Wilhemina, both of them having lunch in Mirandas office.

,,I'm - I'm so sorry Ms Priestly and Ms Venable, I assumed you are out of the office for lunch'' you explain yourself.

,,Well you assumed wrong'' Miranda states, Wilhemina's eyes meeting Miranda with a certain sharpness in them.

,,I just have both of your coffees here'' you explain, quickly before placing them down. As you look at Ms Venable her eyes on your cleavage once again catches your attention. However you make sure you exit her office as quickly as possible before closing the door behind you.

As you return to your desk you exhale deeply and are met with Emily's judgy face.

,,Well..'' she looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

,,Anyway you will be in charge for the rest of the afternoon, I'm leaving early'' she explains, grabbing her things.

,,I have got myself a hot date for tonight'' she smiles excitedly, unaware that her boss could clearly hear her, as they just finished and opened the door.

Emily leaves before realising and you can't help but overhear the conversation that follows.

,,Ugh how come these young things can find dates and men so easily?'' Miranda sighs and purses her lips.

,,Why limit yourself to just men, lunch tomorrow?'' Wilhemina smirks before leaving.

Your heart pounds as you try to muster up your best smile for both of your bosses, slightly in disbelief of the statement you just heard as both Ms Venable and Ms Priestly are undeniably attractive.

-------

A few weeks later and Wilhemina never thought the innocent launch dinner invitation would lead to this. She finds herself in Miranda's townhouse. Miranda exiting the bathroom,wearing a loose fitting white shirt, the length of the shirt exposing her legs and Wilhemina can't help but stare.

As Miranda catches a glimpse of Wilhemina on her bed she can't help but smile. It had been going on for a few weeks, from Miranda being her boss, to not really being her boss anymore since Wilhemina worked in HR to being coworkers or friends? and suddenly more than that.

,,You look at me like you actually want me, which is more than what my ex husbands used to do'' Miranda suddenly exclaims, standing on the other end of the room, getting dressed.

,,Because I do'' Wilhemina speaks eventually, barely audible. She wasn't one to admit feelings and she certainly didn't quite understand what this was but there was something about Miranda she adored.

,,Ive told you we should keep this open, it will be better'' Miranda explains, combing through her hair.

The first time happened so quickly that neither of them really had time to process or think this through. The launch dinner invitation seemed to have kicked things off. It didn't go well and Miranda couldn't cope too well with the criticism she took for the spring collection.

,,There's no denying the job you do for Runway'' Irv had started at first but quickly adding ,,However we aren't happy with budgeting lately''.

Miranda simply averted her gaze, pursing her lips, having to sit through this dinner and listen to his ridiculous words. The tension in the air loomed with anger and just as Miranda was about to snap, Wilhemina suddenly entered the conversation with calm but strict words. ,,Budgeting has been better for Runway than ever before, plus the spring collection has made you more money than ever before''.

Miranda's head snapped towards the redheads, not expecting her to say much tonight and certainly not the words she chose as she actually managed to make Irv shut up and the conversation taking a different turn. Suddenly the redhead woman working as her assistant before but now in HR was utterly attractive to Miranda, and she wasn't one to be subltle about it either.

Somehow it kept happening, Miranda showing up in Wilhemina's office in the late hours of the night and them spending the night together. Maybe it was that shared loneliness that tied them together. Both of them knowing the other one would still be in the office, at whatever hour of the night. Or perhaps it's the way their personalities match and clash at times, binding them together. Wilhemina was stern but hidden behind several walls. Walls that built up over years, filled with pain and heartbreak. Miranda was stern and snappy but in a more open way. She didn't hesitate to make sarcastic comments all the time and let people know what she thinks of them. Maybe their sarcastic selfs were enough to make them a match. However Miranda felt for Wilhemina, her dedication despite the limits her body had put on her. Wilhemina therefore admired Miranda, leading a whole company that is usually dominated by males and Miranda not having a care in the world.

,,Certainly'' Wilhemina mumbles, before composing herself and getting changed.

-------

Today marks another week working for Runway and Ms Priestly. Another Friday, Miranda already gone at some dinner Runway thing, Emily again with her hot date she spoke about last week. It was late, everyone had left the building or so you assumed.

You didn't tell anyone but the last couple of nights you had spent in the office. You moved to New York with a job but no home, the housing market was crazy and despite your savings and all the right documents, you couldn't find a place. You couldn't make time for a viewing and the ones you attended on the weekend were either interrupted by Miranda or Emily needing something or someone already having put a deposit down. The first week and a half you stayed in a hotel, however due to some event in the city everything was booked out

You didn't have a lot of choices and so you put all your belongings with a luggage service and only kept one bag at work at all times. You exit the little kitchen behind your desk, after having heated up your ramen, before sitting back down at your desk, the only source of light, the New York sky illuminating from Miranda's office and your computer.

Despite thinking the building was empty as it already is way past midnight, Wilhemina is still in her office. She didn't usually stay this long but the conversations and situation with Miranda kept replaying in her mind like a broken record.

When both of them first started sleeping with each other, Wilhemina didn't think much of it other than a hookup, of course she had those in her life before. Relationships were however a stranger to her and when Miranda sat her down and talked about how it would be best if they kept this open, she felt a strange feeling in her chest. Heartbreak? Sadness? She wasn't sure. Miranda felt good, the time they spent together while having coffee, work related or in Miranda's bed felt good to Wilhemina.

After about a year she finally feels as if she had that private life, hobbies and people she cared about that she longed for before and ultimately drove her decision to come to New York. As she walks downstairs, on her way to the elevator she sees a light.

The redhead knows this can't be Miranda as she was at a dinner tonight, so she assumes someone had kept the light on. As she enters through the glass door, her eyebrow raises as she sees you, by your desk, in pink Victoria Secret button up pyjamas, the top buttons not done up all the way so the hem of your black bra showing slightly.

,,And what are you doing here?- in your pyjamas?'' she asks. Her voice causes for you to jump on your chair, almost dropping your ramen pot.

,,Oh my god Ms Venable'' you shriek ,,You scared me'' you exhale after catching your breath again.

,,I think you have some explaining to do Ms Y/N'' she states coldly. However her eyes not leaving yours or the hem of your bra for a single second.

,,Look Ms Venable I'm not from New York and I have been trying like crazy to find an apartment but I can't find one. I have been staying in a hotel but they had no availability left and so this has been where I have been sleeping the last couple of nights'' you explain, figuring honesty was best in this situation.

You had always been a quite confident and possible flirty person but somehow Miranda and Wilhemina and the whole Runway experience knocked your confidence. Usually you would have made some sort of joke, causing the other person to laugh but you knew Ms Venable was strict and so you didn't want to risk offending her.

Wilhemina isn't quite sure what to say. Part of her wants to fire you right there on the spot but then she is reminded of a younger version of herself, working out of the back of a van and spending countless nights in said van. A part of her wants to scold you or respond with some kind of sarcasm but somehow you caused for the redhead to be unable to form words which didn't happen often.

,,Collect your things'' she states coldly and your heart sinks at her statement.

,,I'm really sorry Ms Venable, please I really want to keep this job'' you beg.

,,I'm not firing you, I'm taking you home, come on'' she replies.

,,Oh you are?'' you can't help but smirk at her statement before quickly gathering your things. It takes you less than a minute to collect your things and change back into your work outfit from earlier that day.

As you make it to Wilhemina's car, you quite enjoy the drive, not having been able to see a lot of the city yet and despite it being night and dark it's mesmerising. Somehow you couldn't take your eyes off the redhead, her hands coated in Chanel purple gloves wrapped around the steering wheel. Her eyes focused on the road but sometimes betraying her and wandering to you.

You can't help but really take in her features, the shape of her face, her beautiful brown eyes, the glasses, the hair and just every single detail, every wrinkle, every detail.

,,Here we are'' she eventually says as she parks outside of her apartment.

As she unlocks the door, she shows you to the kitchen very modern and minimalistic, the living room looking more homey. You notice the knitting basket in the corner and smile internally. She points you to the bathroom and eventually the spare bedroom.

,,There is bedding and towels over there'' she explains.

,,Thank you so much Ms Venable, I'l make sure to keep looking for apartments tomorrow and I'm so sorry for the inconvenience'' you apologise.

She doesn't say anything and simply walks back to the kitchen so you can collect your bag.

,,Do you have any other questions?'' she asks as you bend to pick up your things.

Silence fills the room before you scan her features and decide to shoot your shot.

,,I do'' you state as you take a step closer to the redhead.

,,You know my eyes are up here right?'' you take a leap, praying you didn't misread the signs and the several times she had checked you out so far.

Unsure whether she was going to kick you out or possibly kill you, you stand still frozen in place. The older woman takes a couple of steps towards you and you close your eyes, hoping she wasn't going to slap you. To your surprise you suddenly feel a firm but soft hand on yours and just as you open your eyes your lips are met by hers.

You moan slightly into the kiss, thanking yourself internally for not reading this the wrong way.

#sarah paulson #wilhemina venable #miranda priestly #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #wilhemina venable x reader #miranda priestly x reader #tdwp #the devil wears prada #cordelia goode #ahs #billie dean howard #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode x reader #ahs coven

[stayevildarling]

Miranda Priestly x Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Dragon meets Purple, Pt 5

word count: 1.2k

tw: hints of smut

taglist:  @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay,@whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson,@isle-of-earle,@paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime

In the days that follow, Miranda finds herself increasingly drawn to you. The memory of the heated conversation with Wilhemina still lingering on her mind, feeling a desire she struggles to suppress.

However, the attempts Miranda made so far were unsuccessful. Emily had been unusually demanding this week, causing for you to run around pretty much all day, doing errands, meetings and other things.

Despite you being usual flirty especially with both of them, you somehow didn't even notice Miranda's tries. The attention she had tried to give you this week. The times she asked you how you were, even invited you for coffee and even a subtle hand on your thigh under the table of meetings or a hand on your shoulder as you organised her desk the other day.

Miranda grows frustrated at first, thinking you had in fact no desire for her. However, Wilhemina made sure to remind the other woman how much you had worked this week and of your interest and flirting to begin with.

Tonight Miranda is determined to finally make her intentions clear as she decides to take matters into her own hands. It was the evening now and Miranda made sure to pass some tasks onto Emily, so she would finally stop bossing you around. As everyone had left for the night, even Wilhemina, as the last traces of daylight faded from the New York sky, Miranda gets ready for her move.

With precision, she approaches your desk, her gaze fixates on you. ,,Y/N'' Miranda murmurs, her voice low and seductive. ,,I need to see you in my office''.

You look up from your computer, buried in some tasks up til now, your brow furrowing. ,,Now Miranda?'' only noticing now how late it was.

,,Now'' Miranda insist, her tone leaving no room for arguing.

Following Miranda, you feel the blood pumping through your veins, especially as she closes the door behind you. She walks over to the windows, closing the blinds, suddenly her office feeling private.

Without a word Miranda crosses the room, her movement purposeful and deliberate. You take a good look at her, the black suit, white shirt and red bell she is wearing, her heels making the slightest noise as she walks over to you. And right there it suddenly dawns on you what you had missed this week. Like some sort of dream you are just wakening from, you remember the hints she dropped you this week, her hand on your leg and all the attempts she made.

With a swift motion, Miranda pulls you into her embrace, her lips crashing against yours. A kiss that ignited a fire of desire. You are caught off guard by Miranda's actions. But surprised and attracted at her boldness, you respond the favour, your hands tangling in her hair as your bodies press against each other.

Miranda slowly pushes you to the direction of her desk, moving all the documents and books with one swift motion as she lays you down. Kisses trail down your neck, her hot breath on your body, whispering words of affection into your ear.

Your heels are discarded on the floor as your back hit the desk. Miranda's eyes meet yours as she takes your tights off, slipping under your skirt. ,,Now you've been blowing me off all week, are you sure this isn't what you want?'' she questions, a smirk playing on her lips.

You gulp hard, struggling to even answer her question as your breath gets caught in your throat. ,,I do- I.. I want you Miranda'' you whisper, your gaze wandering from her lips to her chest.

,,Now that's all... I wanted to hear'' she smirks before giving you exactly what you needed in that moment.

--

As you wake up the following morning, you find yourself in Miranda's townhouse. Not exactly remembering how you got there, you get dressed, walking down the large hallway. The sun rises coating the white and modern place in a beautiful orange.

Approaching the kitchen you halt for a moment, seeing Miranda standing by the coffee maker, she must have let you sleep in a little as she was already dressed for the day. You take in her perfect features, the way her skirt complimented her body, her hair perfectly styled.

,,Good morning'' you mumble, announcing your presence, unsure what Miranda would be like this morning, knowing her icy personality at times.

,,Morning'' she smiles a little as she turns around and hands you a coffee in a to-go cup.

,,Come on, I'll take you to the office'' she announces, grabbing her handbag and coat.

,,You.. to the office?'' you stumble over your words, in disbelief she would take you there, with the risk of being seen.

,,Wilhemina will bring you some of your things so you can get ready there'' she announces with a slight smirk and you simply reach for the coffee with a thankful nod and comply, following the older woman out into the streets of New York.

A few hours later, you find yourself sitting by your desk, working through your schedule, Wilhemina of course having complied and brought you a bag to change and get ready. And through some miracle no one seems to have noticed either, however you aren't entirely sure if Miranda had pulled some strings and made sure the office was empty this morning.

It's Wilhemina's and Miranda's usual coffee ,,date'' by now, even though neither of them would ever remotely adress it as such. As you scan the room, you see Emily typing away on her computer, occasionally answering the phone. And you can't help but glance into your bosses office, taking in their features. They seem to feel more comfortable at this point, leaving the office door open, unless it's a private conversation.

Overhearing the conversation, you can't help but chuckle at the exchange between the two. ,,Can you believe the nerve of these interns Miranda?'' Wilhemina starts and sighs dramatically ,,One of them had the audacity to ask if they could take a lunch break'' she carries on.

Miranda simply raises an eyebrow before muttering ,,And what was your response? Wilhemina?''.

,,I told them that in this office, we don't take breaks, we make breakthroughs'' the redhead smirks ,,They looked like I just told them the world was ending'' she carries on.

Emily, feeling a little more comfortable around Wilhemina by now, actually having established some sense of a professional relationship can't help but roll her eyes in a playful way. ,,Oh please'' she begins, her voice ringing through the office.

,,You think you're so high and mighty, you're just Miranda's lapdog, same as the rest of us'' she sighs dramatically and you can't help but chuckle, used to these little exchanges by now.

You hear Wilhemina's laughter echoing through the office ,,At least I'm not the one fetching soy lattes every morning''.

,,You mean.. not anymore?'' Emily smirks, meeting your gaze.

Miranda interjects ,,Emily get me the latest issue of Runway and Wilhemina stop wasting my time with petty banter, we have work to do''.

And with those words, you simply chuckle to yourself before continuing your work, but somehow not being able to keep your eyes of either of the two women you work for.

#wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable #miranda priestly #miranda priestly x reader #sarah paulson #ahs #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #the devil wears prada #tdwp #meryl streep

[stayevildarling]

Miranda Priestly x Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Dragon meets Purple, Last Part

A/N: thanks to everyone for reading this story. this one is the last part. I initially wrote this as one draft and now it kinda seems a bit short and rushed but oh well.

tw: soft fluff, hints of smut towards the end

word count: 2k

taglist: @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay,@whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson,@isle-of-earle,@paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime,

It had been around two weeks since your encounter with Miranda in her office that one night. The week that followed was a mixture of working hard but also pleasure you couldn't deny. They took turns, one night you belonged to Miranda and the other to Wilhemina. And as much as you enjoyed their company and the intimate evenings spent at either of their homes or their offices, you couldn't shake the unsettling feeling it left you with.

You felt conflicted somehow, knowing you should just be grateful for their desire towards you and enjoying it but you couldn't help yourself feeling guilty and confused. Miranda and Wilhemina had told you that they had a conversation about you and their decision and of course they made sure to sit you down as well, your consent being more important to them than anything else.

Still, Miranda and Wilhemina seemed like a power couple to you, despite them not being officially together and knowing by now how the industry worked, you knew even if this was to happen they wouldn't make it public. But the situation felt complicated to you, when you were with Wilhemina you both missed Miranda and also felt guilty. The same feeling when you had your nights with Miranda. You missed the other ones presence and the both of them together.

In the days that follow, you distance yourself a little bit, wanting to focus a bit more on your own life, trying to find an apartment finally as sleeping over at Wilhemina's or Miranda's at times still felt like an intrusion and asking too much, despite them offering and preferring it. It was Sunday today and you hadn't talked to either of them since Friday. Of course both of them noticed and they started to worry. The redhead had texted a few times but she didn't get proper responses from you.

Miranda hadn't tried yet, knowing you would answer the phone as you always did to her, considering she was still your boss after all. After a long day of apartment viewing you find yourself wandering the streets of New York, walking past stores closing for the night, restaurants, people, couples sitting outside, chatting and laughing. You aren't sure where to go, you don't feel like going back to Runway for the night but you also didn't feel like going to see either of them as your turmoil of emotions confuses and overwhelms you a little.

As the evening wears on, Miranda and Wilhemina grow increasingly worried. Without admitting it, Miranda felt scared that maybe you found something or someone better to spend your time with, Wilhemina however could tell you probably just needed some space. They eventually decide to call you and as you still walk the streets of New York, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

Seeing it's Miranda you couldn't ignore it, not only for the work aspect but also because you felt bad for blowing them off over the last few days. ,,Y/N it's Miranda, can we talk?'' she asks, her voice sounding softer than usual. You nod only to realise she's on the phone so you quickly add a ,,Yes of course Miranda''. She asks to meet you at her townhouse, asking if you needed her to send her driver but you politely decline, making your way over.

Feeling a mix of guilt and curiosity, you finally make it to Miranda's place. As she opens the door, you could see the little bags under her eyes, an indication she was worried about something, usually about some Runway project or task. You aren't surprised as you find Wilhemina also sitting in her living room.

As you take a seat opposite them, you brace yourself for the conversation ahead, not sure whether they would fire you, be angry at you for ignoring them. Miranda speaks first, her voice soft but determined. ,,Y/N we care about you''. Her words take you by surprise because you knew she wasn't the affectionate type. Even Wilhemina is surprised by the statement, obviously having seen glimpses of the real Miranda by now but she didn't expect her to be so straight forward and honest with this conversation.

,,You have been pulling away little one, are you okay?'' Wilhemina joins the conversation. Her brown eyes piercing right through you.

Your mind races with thoughts, trying to find a reply but somehow you are distracted by them. The mere thought they let you into their personal lives and giving you such intimate moments, immediately makes you feel bad for feeling the way you had.

,,We understand if things have been confusing lately, but we want you to be honest with us'' Miranda adds, noticing your hesitation to the redheads question.

,,I just feel a little confused, I care about you both very much and obviously you are both undeniably attractive'' you start, your later words causing for Wilhemina to smirk and Miranda's cheeks to flush. ,,But?'' Wilhemina asks, her features turning serious as she notices your hesitation.

,,I- something about this doesn't feel right to me'' you finally admit, feeling bad and internally scolding yourself for making their lives more difficult but you don't want to lie, knowing you owe them more than that.

,,What is it darling?'' they ask almost at the same time.

,,I just feel bad, when I'm not with you Mina I feel like a part is missing and when I'm not with you Miranda I feel the same. I somehow feel like I'm cheating on the both of you, even though I know we agreed to this and that it's not like that.'' your feelings spill out right in front of you, causing for tears to swell in your eyes.

Miranda and Wilhemina's hearts equally break at the sight in front of them , they had known you to be tough, life and its struggles not really affection you before but seeing you like this caused them pain. The redhead reaches out, gently taking your hand into hers.

,,I'm sorry little one, we should have checked in more and talked to you more about this, I understand it's confusing and we never meant to upset you in any way'' her soft side now quite present.

You quickly wipe your tears, feeling ashamed for being weak and showing this sort of emotion in front of them. Miranda catches this, no words needed and suddenly she is reminded of a younger version of herself. First starting out in the business to eventually making it to the top. Of course it hadn't been easy but she sees part of herself right there in you. And she doesn't ever want you to feel like you can't be like this with them. Wilhemina notices her thinking face as she watches you and she gives Miranda an encouraging smile, knowing the woman was mostly in an inner battle each day, her icy, distant self versus the gentle side she truly had, despite it being buried.

,,You don't have to hide this'' Miranda encourages, a reassuring smile on her face.

,,We feel the same, when we aren't both with you at the same time and so we have a proposition for you'' Wilhemina joins in after a little moment of comfortable silence.

,,I- we..'' Miranda starts, hesitating at first, she hated this. The whole subject of having to talk about her feelings but if there was anything she learnt from her previous marriages, she knows she needs to get better at this, knowing with you both she might actually have a shot at this.

,,The things we feel for you Y/N, it's not just physical attraction'' she carries on, doing some sort of hand gesture to hide her nervousness. ,,It's more, Wilhemina and I have talked this through and we think this can work out''.

Wilhemina reaches out to you again, holding your hand yet again ,,We understand if you need time to process this. We are willing to make this work with you, openly and honestly.''

You feel a wave of emotion washing over you, when you first met them both you hadn't the faintest idea you would sit in Miranda's living room with them both and them proposing a relationship to you, given their age, statues and careers. A small part of you is screaming internally, given the attraction and feelings you share for both of them. Another part worried what it would be like, given Miranda's position in the public eye, both of them being your bosses. Wilhemina's words felt like a warm comfort blanket, seeing her so raw and soft laying out her feelings right there in front of you.

The room falls into a comfortable silence as they reflect on the past few months. Miranda thinks about her past, seeing herself in you, feeling grief that she turned out to be this cold and icy rather than full of warmth and light like you. The thought of being with you gives her comfort and hope that maybe she will be able to learn from you. Wilhemina reflects back on her last year in New York, no personal life, family or hobbies before and suddenly she had a job she loved, in the presence of her two favourite people. Despite it being complicated, she finds a shimmer of hope, her usual walls breaking bit by bit and her usual negativity towards things and herself mostly, fading slowly.

And then there is you, sitting there in disbelief that after taking one of the most desirable jobs in New York that thousands of girls would die for, finally being settled and having two of the prettiest and most successful women proposing a relationship to you.

,,I do'' you eventually say, barely above a whisper.

,,You do?'' Miranda and Wilhemina ask at the same time, a wave of relief washing over them, deep down worried you would have declined given the circumstances.

,,I wanna try'' you confirm, giving them a small smile.

As you look at both of them you feel content, looking forward to what the future brings, of course still some practical questions on your mind, but for now this was all you needed right there with them.

,,What should we do now?'' you ask, your curiosity getting ahold of you.

,,How about dinner?'' Miranda suggests.

As she speaks the words, Wilhemina and your eyes meet, a cheeky smirk playing on both of your faces before you both turn to Miranda.

,,We could skip straight to desert I guess?'' you suggest, your voice low, Wilhemina already smirking proudly before Miranda rolls her eyes, before giving in.

#sarah paulson #wilhemina venable #ahs #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #wilhemina venable x reader #miranda priestly #miranda priestly x reader #tdwp #the devil wears prada

[multimilfs]

Emily Charlton x Fem!Reader: Crisis Mode 

Summary: "Ew. Get away from me. No--not you. You stay."

AO3

A/N: I chose to do this for Emily because the line feels so perfect for her. I've never really written her before so this was a lot of fun!! So fun in fact that I'm pumping this out before work haha. I hope you all like it!

Prompts found here!

Tag List: @multifandomfix @escapetodreamworld @ghostsunderstoodmysoul

Warning(s): None

Though it was par for the course by now, you’ll never get used to rounding the corner and hearing Emily’s frazzled “I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.” With a job like her’s, it was impossible to blame her for how she had to stay afloat. Miranda—amazing and talented as she is—can be the devil to work for. 

You came in early on the hunch that something was going to go terribly wrong. Sometime mid-trip, you wondered if that was just how it felt to work at Runway anymore; but you were too close to the office to turn around. When you stroll through the doors to see everything in pure chaos, you know it was the right choice.

The first thing you register is Nigel running past you. Not a speed-walk or a jog, sprinting. Jocelyn follows at his heels babbling under her breath. On instinct, you make a beeline for the desks outside of Miranda’s office. If they were acting like this, she couldn’t be here yet. 

That’s when Emily’s mantra reaches your ears and you know the day is going up in flames. The second assistant is silent, staring between her computer screen and the papers on her desk like she couldn’t read a word of it. She looked haunted. Dark shadows under her eyes and pale skin tell you she is either very sick or severely malnourished—though you saw that often enough—and you need to get her away from Emily before she ruins anything. 

“You,” You say, pointing to the second assistant as both snapped their heads to you, “Go get something to eat. I don’t care if it’s a dried cranberry or something greasy, go, and don’t come back until you can do your job.” 

Emily hisses out your name and you ignore it until the second assistant leaves, then she snaps, “What do you think you’re doing!?” 

“Getting her out of the way. She wasn’t going to be of any help to you, Em. Now, tell me what’s going on.” 

Emily takes a deep breath and all of the days problems are unloaded; The Central Park shoot was canceled for some official city event, the new collection of Prada belts have gone missing, Miranda wants the run-through pushed to this afternoon, on and on and on it goes until you’re worried Emily is going to pass out. 

You step forward and place a hand on either of her cheeks, missing the blush that erupts there, “Breathe, Em, you’re better to us alive.” 

She takes a deep breath and when you’re sure she’s calmed, you offer a smile, and launch right into your plan of attack. You’d been Miranda’s assistant too once. When you’d done your time, you asked to move to the makeup department with Serena; you’d always loved painting faces and Serena was a master. Miranda had been pleased—as pleased as she could be—to oblige. 

You were a bit rusty, but when you’ve played the role of Miranda’s assistant, it never leaves you. It’s like second nature to sit back at the desk and start rifling through papers. 

“I’ll call the city and arrange everything with Central Park. Call the Closet staff and let them know that anything they’re working on currently is on pause, finding those Prada belts are first priority unless they all want to be out of a job. If Miranda wants the run-through today, she’ll get it, and I need at least three passable spreads from each department,” You’re dialing the line to the makeup department, smiling and saying smoothly down the line, “Serena darling, I’m with Emily, we’re in crisis mode. Can you do me a favor? Yes, I’ll explain later, but there is a pair of scuffed Manolo Blahniks in the Closet that are supposed to be used in the run-through today. Can you fill in the scuffs with eyeliner until we can send them back? You’re the best. Ciao.” 

The wide-eyes and look of awe from Emily make you stop up short. You forgot that she’s never seen you in this role; by the time she came to Runway, you were comfortably in the makeup department with Serena. Offering a shy smile, you get to work, trying to ignore the way her gaze makes you blush. 

It takes some subtle threatening and maneuvering, but the Central Park shoot is back on. The team will have to work fast but it’s better than losing the whole thing. Emily informs you that they’ve found the Prada belts and they’re being sent up. Staff around Runway are also bringing up their spreads for the run-through to see if they’ll pass. 

Serena stops by with the formerly-scuffed Blahniks in hand and you examine them with a hard eye. If you’re really looking for it, you can tell they’re filled in. You hope Miranda isn’t hyperfocused on details today because they’ll pass if she’s distracted. 

By the time all is said and done, you have an hour and a half before Miranda is supposed to show. You’re only waiting on the run-through staff at this point. Sitting on the edge of Emily’s desk and talking through the changes—pausing when she answers a phone call—is nice. It’s a brief moment of calm you rarely get with the assistant. Sure, the two of you go out sometimes, but it’s different seeing her at work. She’s in charge here when Miranda’s gone. 

You believe that one day, should Miranda ever step-down, that Emily is next in line for Editor-in-Chief. No one sees what she does and has the experience at Miranda’s side. It’d be perfect for her. 

You’re waiting patiently as Emily takes a call when her face drops, “Emily?” You whisper.

She hangs up the phone in silence. Her eyes, now wide, look up at you. There is pure and unrestrained horror in them. You feel a pit growing in your gut. 

“Annie just canceled. She’s sick.” Emily says. 

It takes you a few moments to realize she means Annie Leibovitz, the photographer for the Central Park shoot. You want to rip your hair out. Everything was going so well. But instead, you take her hands, and start to slowly walk her through how she can fix it. 

You’re interrupted by everyone walking in with their run-through spreads. Seeing you and Emily at the same desk, they crowd around, talking a mile a minute and shoving garments in your face. A gaudy rhinestone belt nearly smacks you in the eye, but you’re still trying to deliver comments on each item. The noise is overwhelming. 

“Enough!” Emily declares. 

She’s moved away from the crowd and when you move towards her, the whole crowd follows. They’re silently holding out their garments now. 

“Ew. Get away from me,” Emily snaps and you startle, stepping back just as everyone else does. She grabs your arm and pulls you back into her space, “No–not you. You stay. The rest of you organize your things in Miranda’s office and go, we’ll call if anything is especially heinous.” 

They all pause and stare. 

“Now!” 

They scramble as if Miranda made the call herself. You watch it all happen with a small smile, impressed at the way Emily took control of everything. She looks at you and shares your smile. Neither of you think about how she’s still holding onto you. 

All of them leave quickly, heads down and muttering apologies as they pass. You barely hold in a laugh. It’s only when she gives your arm a gentle squeeze that you realize you’re still touching. 

You stare at one another for a long minute and you’re weighing the dangers of kissing her; so far you’re most worried about how it’d smudge her lipstick, the rest seems worth the risk. But her cell beeps and the two of you reluctantly separate. 

Her lips purse and she takes in a long breath, “Miranda’s on her way.” 

#emily charlton #emily charlton x reader #the devil wears prada #the devil wears prada x reader #tdwp #emily charlton imagine #the devil wears prada imagine #wlw #wlw imagine #oct2022 #multimilfswritings

[multimilfs]

Miranda Priestly x Fem!Reader: Smooth Sailing

Summary: thewriting-dragon requested "Hey dear another request this time for Devil Wears Prada: Miranda Priestly and the reader is the twin's theater teacher or something just like maybe even a tutor, who just sees right past the woman's demeanor, but also doesn't give her any slack for being 'a queen of fashion' she's just like blunt and to the point and isn't scared of the 'Ice Queen' routine. Just slightly flustered Miranda meets immovable, stubborn educator who does have a soft spot for the Priestly twins and their mum"

AO3

A/N: This wasn't intended to be as long as it is, but the more I wrote, the more ideas I got. Leaving it short didn't feel right and I just kept expanding until it became... this! I hope you like it!!!

Tag List: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @multifandomfix @angel7376

Warning(s): None

With every passing second, the dragon lady’s wrath grew twofold. With every minute ticking up on the clock, her jaw got tenser and her fingers tapped impatiently on the seat. And with every breath, Roy was sweating more profusely.

“Roy,” Miranda bit out finally, when she’d finished counting the passing students, “Are my girls always so abhorrently late?”

Roy sat up straighter in his seat, making eye contact with her in the mirror. He had to clear his throat twice before he was able to speak.

“No, Miranda.”

It was a perfect answer. Clean, precise, and obedient. But the way he broke the eye contact a little too soon dampened the satisfaction; there was something her driver was hiding. She detested secrets.

“I don’t pay you to withhold information from me, do I?” Miranda asked him sharply.

“No, you don’t, Miranda.”

“Then don’t. If you have information, you need to share it with me. I detest repeating myself.”

“My answer wasn’t untrue, Miranda. Caroline and Cassidy are very punctual most days. The only time they are tardy is on Tuesdays and Thursdays after theatre.”

“Do you believe the fault lies with their instructor?” She asked.

“I’m not sure. That would be a question for Caroline and Cassidy.” Roy responded.

The way he carefully constructed his statement told her all she needed to know. It was obviously their instructor, if they were never late any other time. While she applauded Roy’s careful consideration for the theatre director, she didn’t have time for it. She was not going to accept any tardiness from her Bobbseys.

“Unacceptable. Wait here.” Miranda said.

Miranda threw open the door with poise, but also obvious annoyance. Her lips pursed out of habit and she stalked quickly past anyone who was in her way. A few parents looked as if they wanted to say something, though they quickly thought against it when seeing her. None were brave enough to interrupt her journey.

She had been in the theatre several times before, so there was no need to stop a passerby for directions. Caroline and Cassidy had been in a number of performances at Dalton that led them to the stage. Though this was the first year they’d officially been a part of the theatre group. With adverse effects, it seemed, Miranda thought snidely.

The auditorium was dark, save for the lights illuminating the stage. A few students were sat on the edge, legs swinging, as you stood before them speaking. Your voice was muffled and incoherent as you faced away from the doors, but your hands were moving wildly and the children were nodding along to whatever you were saying.

Caroline was the first to notice her mother strutting into the room, the lights shining on more and more of her. It took far less time for her to understand her mother’s expression. She nudged Cassidy, who nodded.

“Excuse us for a moment, Miss Y/N.” Cassidy said hastily, interrupting your speech as she dragged Caroline with her.

They intercepted Miranda within moments of her reaching you, effectively pushing her back quite a ways. Miranda was too stunned at their reaction to her to stop them from moving her.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” Caroline demanded in a hushed tone.

“I’ve come to see why you and your sister are wasting time,” Miranda answered, narrowing her eyes, “You were supposed to be outside fifteen minutes ago.”

“Miss Y/N was filling us in on extra instruction. Can’t you wait?”

“Watch your tone, Cassidy Anne.”

“Sorry, Mom, but we really wanted to hear about the extra classes. We didn’t think it would matter if we were a little late, that’s all.”

“That doesn’t excuse tardiness, girls. Gather your things.” Miranda said.

Caroline and Cassidy could clearly see how cross their mother was, but just this once, they decided to test it. Her moods were dreadful when she’d made up her mind. Luckily, they had inherited all of their stubbornness from her. A fact their father detested.

“Miss Y/N is almost done. We’ll meet you in the car.” Caroline said in a no-nonsense tone, clearly summoning all of the traits she associated with her mother.

It felt as if the world stood still for just a moment. Miranda’s gaze, which was normally so warm towards her daughters, was now hardened. Both girls wanted nothing more than to freeze up completely. This wasn’t really their mom anymore, this was partly the Dragon Lady.

“Excuse me?”

“Uhh,” Caroline said slowly, feeling her mistake keenly, “I just meant that-”

“Is there a problem, girls?”

Without any of them realizing, you had allowed everyone to leave, thoroughly filling everyone in. After the theatre was completely empty, you’d come up to check that everything was okay. They’d moved from the group rather quickly.

Unfortunately for you, however, the interruption allowed Miranda to turn her wrath on you. Miranda Priestly was famous for three things around Dalton; her devotion to supporting her children, countless donations, and her anger. It wasn’t like some of the parents, where they’d get loud and cause a scene. Miranda was cold and quiet, eviscerating you without drawing the slightest bit of attention.

“I believe there is,” Miranda said, voice cold, “It seems your lack of punctuality is rubbing off on my daughters.”

“I beg your pardon?” You asked, eyebrows raising to your hairline. Of all points for her to be angry with you, that was the last one you expected.

“I’m not fond of repeating myself, but as your hearing has failed you, I must. Your inability to end instruction on time is interfering with my girls’ schedules. Such an atrocious habit is not one I’ll allow them to inherit.”

There was a small amount of fear in your gut, of course. You weren’t stupid enough to believe yourself above a fearful respect for the woman. But above all of that lied indignation. It wasn’t uncommon for parents to berate you without all of the details, but you’d expected more from Miranda Priestly. Hoped for more.

“Caroline and Cassidy know very well that if they have other commitments, they have the option to leave quietly. Their choice to remain is not one I make for them. Contrary to popular belief, I do not rule over my students like a tyrant.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Both girls winced slightly. They were embarrassed at their mother’s eagerness to scold their teacher, but hoped they would remain bystanders to it. Evidently not.

Miranda had the grace to look contrite, before turning to her daughters. They offered sheepish smiles in return. And though Miranda would do anything for her girls, they couldn’t worm their way out of this situation and the following consequences.

“Girls, offer Miss Y/N your apologies and join me in the car.” Miranda said abruptly, surprising you with the quick change.

You wondered if she truly understood her mistake in confronting you without the proper information, or if she had grown bored of the conversation you were having. Internally, you hoped it was the first. Caroline and Cassidy were eager to apologize and you felt bad for them. You remembered being a kid, wanting to make your own decisions, despite the consequences.

When they left, you stood in the empty theatre for a few moments. You hoped that you hadn’t made an enemy of Miranda before you’d properly met. Part of you regretted being so harsh towards her, but another part stated that she deserved it. You let out a heaving sigh.

You guessed that this would not be your last encounter with the illustrious Miranda Priestly. Nor, you found yourself realizing, did you want it to be.

----

It could never be said that Miranda Priestly didn’t make good to those she wronged; that when she’d made a mistake, she found some way of making it up to them. It’s not easy in her position, being someone so important and well-known for her icy reputation. But every once in a while, she could defer from that expectation to right those mistakes.

So when an exceptionally expensive piece of stationary landed on your desk, it didn’t completely surprise you. The invitation inside did. There was no apology, no buzzwords like ‘amends’ or ‘resolution’ in the elegant script. Just an invitation to dinner at the townhouse.

A public place would have made you less nervous. As you walked up the steps to the townhouse, you realized how sweaty your palms were. You reminded yourself that Miranda Priestly was just a woman, just the mother of your two favored students. A very powerful woman, but a woman nonetheless.

You summoned all of your courage to press the doorbell. The nervousness crept its way up your throat as a pair of heels approached the door. When it opened, and Miranda stood there in all of her glory, you felt you’d underestimated your anxiousness.

“Miss Y/N,” Miranda said with a pleasant softness, “Do come in.”

“Thank you for your invitation. Though it did come as a surprise.” You said, offering a sheepish smile.

“I can imagine. We got off on the wrong foot this week and it would be in everyone's best interest to rectify that, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Absolutely. Our being at odds doesn’t do anyone good.”

“Precisely my thoughts. Now, do you prefer white or red?”

Miranda motioned to two bottles of wine on the polished countertops. Your eyes widened as you took in the labels, though you tried to hide your reaction quickly. It seemed Miranda would spare no expense for good things.

“White, please.” You said eventually.

She gave you a single, short nod when you met her eyes. You decided to take that as a good sign and let yourself relax. Soon enough, the two of you were getting along swimmingly.

“You can’t be serious.” You laughed, looking at the photo in your hands.

To keep the conversation flowing and pleasant, you both focused on shared topics. You stayed far from fashion and Miranda stayed far from teaching, eventually settling on Caroline and Cassidy. Miranda glowed when she spoke on them and it was intoxicating to see.

Soon enough, she’d broken out the photo albums. You’d explained that they were wonderful students, their playful streak adding to their performances and the energy of the crew. Miranda assured you that you didn’t know the half of it.

“I never lie. Caroline was so furious that she dropped the cake in Cassidy’s hair and I spent three days washing the icing out.” Miranda assured you, a smirk pulling at her mouth.

“Only three?” You teased, “I’d expect nothing less than five from your girls. They do nothing by halves.”

She hummed and took a sip of her wine. It struck you how similar the girls seemed to be to their mother. They were always dedicated, sometimes to a fault. You couldn’t count the number of times you told either Caroline or Cassidy to take a break after working too hard.

From what you understood of their parents, you understood that their father was the same way. But Miranda was entirely more dedicated from your point of view. For every show or recital, Miranda would be there in the front row, holding a gift for each girl. You had never once seen their father.

“There’s a reason I asked you here, besides regaling you with stories of my girls.” Miranda said after a few moments, “My daughters urged me to… make amends for my behavior last week. I was out of turn to instruct you in your own profession.”

You were waiting for an ‘I’m sorry’ but it never arrived. You guessed this was the closest you would get to a real apology.

“You were doing what you believed was right at the time,” You reasoned, taking a long sip of your wine as you thought over what you wanted to say, “I like to think we’ll understand one another better in the future because of it.”

“Is that something that pleases you?”

Her question caught you off guard. For a few, long moments you stared at her, her gaze never moving from yours.

“What do you mean?”

Miranda sighed, but this time you didn’t look away. You gathered that the frown forming on her face wasn’t a good sign and felt your confidence wane.

“Understanding one another better, does that please you?” She said, slowly, as if trying to ensure that you’d understand it.

You were more affected by the question than you cared to admit. It hadn’t hit you until just now that yes, the idea did please you; learning and laughing with Miranda all night had pleased you immensely. It was dangerous territory you were slipping into with her being the mother of your students, but some part of you didn’t care.

“Yes, I’d say it does.” You answered in a soft voice, following the statement up with a long swig of your wine.

The liquid provided more courage than you imagined it could. Upon arriving at the townhouse, you’d been scared out of your mind of what could happen. Now, you sat locked in a gaze with Miranda Priestly, trying to ignore the way your gut churned with butterflies.

No shortage of rumors about Miranda plagued Dalton’s hallways; that she was irritable, unyielding, and a pain. And though you wanted to completely dispute all of those—whether to yourself or to everyone else, you couldn’t tell—it wouldn’t be authentic to do so. Miranda was all of those things, but she was also caring, intuitive, and quick-minded. And to you, the good far outweighed the bad.

After the question, the conversation ran down until you took your leave of the townhouse. And as you walked away, you hoped that you did well enough to hide the grin on your face.

----

You couldn’t help the overwhelming smile on your lips, illuminating your face more than any light could. The calendar marked two days until opening night of the spring play and rehearsal, shockingly, had gone extremely well.

Now, your students were looking up at you with admiration and curiosity. You were unaware that a certain fashion editor was wearing a similarly curious look, hidden in the back row of the theatre where your vision could not reach.

“You all know that I’m never one to be caught without something to say,” You said, drawing some laughs from your students, “but you were all amazing. I truly have no critiques. Keep the same energy for opening night and you’ll be golden. Now, off you go!”

There were a few cheers from the students, before they moved to pack up their bags. You couldn’t help the unshakable smile on your face as you heard them yell their goodbyes behind them. Shaking your head, you picked up some discarded stand-in props, when a throat cleared behind you.

Caroline and Cassidy stood in front of you wearing genuine smiles, holding out a small bag to you. Your eyebrows furrowed. Though you were extremely interested, this wasn’t expected.

“What’s this?” You asked, taking the bag carefully.

“A gift, of course. We knew everyone else would wait until opening night, so we wanted to be the first.” Cassidy explained, “Open it.”

Unbeknownst to any of you, Miranda had shifted forward in her seat with interest. The gift wasn’t something she knew about. She certainly hadn’t the time to help, though she was truly curious as to what the item was.

You pulled out a small, square item wrapped in tissue paper. With intense care and patience, you peeled back the layers of paper, looking down at a framed picture. It was a candid photo of you, Caroline, and Cassidy running through lines. You recognized the photo from when the school photographer had first shown you. The picture was one of your favorites, as you could clearly see the differences between the girls demeanors in the still item.

“This… This is very thoughtful, girls. Thank you.” You said softly, trying not to betray just how emotional the gesture had made you.

Gifts were as common as rehearsals to you, but it was rare that they were ever so thoughtful. Dalton parents were rich and you’d end up with anything from gourmet chocolates to small luxury items. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate said gifts, they didn’t hold the same sentiment. You knew this picture was going to sit on your desk for some time.

“We’re really glad you like it, Miss Y/N.” Cassidy said.

“We were going to get you something else, but we thought you might like this better.” Caroline added.

“I don’t think I could like any gift as much as this.” You whispered, giving them a wink.

You tried to maintain a neutral style with all of your students, but you couldn’t deny that you held some students closer to your heart than others. The Priestly twins were no exception to that. The name ‘Priestly’ came with certain expectations around the city. Hell, around the world.

Your expectation was that the twins would fit the stereotype you heard constantly. Twins terrors, devil spawn, etc. But when you met them for the first time, surprise filled you at their quiet, respectful demeanor. They spoke only when called on, allowing everyone an opportunity to speak before they did.

Though your first run in with their mother hadn't been sunshine and rainbows, you knew their respectful air wasn’t only theirs. Manners like that were learned early on. You gathered that you had Miranda to thank for that. Beneath the cold facade of the Dragon Lady, you could see an honest, intelligent woman. A woman who knows what is worthy of her time; who is worthy of her time.

Two sets of arms closed around your waist, jolting you from your thoughts. You instinctively wrapped your arms around them in return.

When they left, you tried to ignore the bereft feeling in your heart. Like you were missing some vital part of you that you’d never realized had been missing before. The twins had wormed their way onto the list in your heart. You also tried not to ignore the desire to add a certain editor to that list, too.

——

“No. Absolutely not.”

“What do you mean ‘no?’ Be reasonable.”

You turned, glaring heavily at the woman behind you. Her snow white hair was illuminated by the stage lights, almost forming a halo around her head. The thought made you want to laugh bitterly.

“Exactly as I said Miranda, no.” You growled.

“You know how much this means to Caroline. It’s cruel not to give her a role she’s worked so hard for.”

“It would be far more cruel to give her a role that doesn’t fit her.”

“How much will it take for you to make my daughter happy?”

You’d been hastily snatching up the temporary props when the question left her mouth. The speed at which you turned back to her made your head spin, or maybe it was the anger you felt. Too much was happening for you to decide.

“I beg your pardon?” You asked.

“Have you suddenly lost your hearing? How much money do you need?” Miranda asked in a low tone, rolling her eyes as she glared at you.

Reasonably in the back of your mind, you knew that there were two options; take the bribe and appease Miranda or refuse it and royally piss her off, potentially risking your job in the process. The choice alone felt like a punch in the gut. You believed that you and Miranda had an understanding of these things, but it seemed you had been mistaken. Her offer had seriously wounded your pride.

“Now you listen to me and you listen clearly,” You said finally, advancing into her personal space and ignoring the way her eyes widened ever-so-slightly, “Caroline was given the role that best suits her. I’m sorry that she is unhappy with it, I truly am, but if I gave her the lead I’d set her up for failure. So you can accept the circumstances or she doesn’t have to be part of the show, but as far as I’m concerned this conversation is over.”

The lack of polite pandering she was used to shocked her into silence. She stood in this silence, watching you walk away from her. You were one of the few who’d ever stood up to Miranda Priestly. And unbeknownst to you, you were the only one who’d get away with it.

——

A few days passed and another invitation landed on your desk. The stationary felt too thick, too heavy. With anger still bubbling inside, you swiped the invitation off the desk and into the trash can.

——

The next time it wasn’t an envelope, but a small box with a bow on top. Underneath the bow was a small letter with your name on it. You were tempted to read it, to see if she’d actually apologized. You knew she hadn’t.

The box joined the invitation at the bottom of your trash bin.

——

Both gifts turned into a lovely bouquet of flowers, popping with bright oranges and yellows. The small card tempted you.

The arrangement was beautiful, some of the flowers seeming so expensive that you couldn’t have afforded it yourself. But the thought of the price tag mocked you and reminded you of her initial offer. Her bribe.

Ripping the card into pieces, you gave the bouquet to one of your assistant directors. You could finally breathe again with it out of your sight.

——

A soft knock on your door caught your attention. The laser focus you had on the script in your hands was broken as you looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry to interrupt, Miss Y/N, but there’s a woman out here asking to speak with you.” One of your assistant directors said with a sheepish smile.

“That’s okay. You can send her in.” You said, offering a reassuring look of your own.

As she scuttled from the room, you let out a sigh. The bulky script and red pen in your hands were forgotten at the moment. Now, you listened to the muffled footsteps of someone approaching your office. The small bit of peace you’d been holding onto was effectively shattered when you saw the woman walking through the door.

Miranda’s signature coiff was unmistakable, even in swelling New York crowds. So as she stood in your office now you had to face that she was there. You couldn’t swipe her attempts at apologies into the trash or pawn them off on friends.

“You’ve been ignoring me.” Miranda stated without bothering to shut the door.

“Good afternoon to you as well, Miranda.” You scoffed, circling around her to shut said door. Definitely not because it offered a reprieve from her cold eyes.

“It would be, if you’d summon the energy to return my correspondence.”

You took a deep breath, counting to ten in your head. Some part of you knew that Miranda was well-meaning in some ways, but she hid it behind seven layers of Dragon-Lady. She wouldn’t have offended you if it wasn’t for the sake of her daughter. You could appreciate that, it didn’t mean you had to like it.

If you had kids and the money Miranda did, you thought you might pull the same thing. Seeing someone you loved so dearly happy was important. You couldn’t put a price on it unless you were sickeningly wealthy. She was using the resources available to her.

That doesn’t change the way she acted.

“If you have something to say to me, you can do so in person. Not in a note.” You said, raising an eyebrow.

Returning to the spot behind your desk, you put your hands down on top of it, leaning on them. Miranda didn’t waver from her position in front of you. Part of you hoped she’d sit down and put some distance between you both, but it was only a hope.

“Some of us have schedules to maintain.” She bit out.

“Then it isn’t as important as you say, is it? It’s been lovely talking to you, but if you’re too busy then don’t let me keep you.” You said, motioning to the door. She didn’t budge. “What are you doing here, Miranda?”

“I have come to make amends.”

“Well, you have the floor.”

A silence filled the room as you waited for those three words. You folded your arms over your chest patiently, not letting your gaze fall away from her’s.

“If you would accept the items I sent, you could have saved me the unnecessary trip.” Miranda growled.

“Mm. No. A pretty box or bouquet doesn’t equal an apology.”

“And what does?”

“I don’t know, maybe an actual apology? Those three elusive little words that you seem intent on never saying?”

The beat of silence that followed your words made you laugh bitterly. Every opportunity known to man was at her disposal and she wasted every single one. You shook your head, a mixture of anger building from the original hurt you’d been sitting on since your last conversation.

“You are the most unfortunate, brilliant woman I’ve ever met,” You said passionately, “I’ve seen mothers with less on their plate who miss every show, but not you. Every show you’re there. You’re dedicated and intelligent and yet I’m standing here instructing you on how to apologize. I expect more from you, but it seems I was mistaken to do so.”

During your tirade, you circled back around the desk and over to the door, pulling it open for her. She was still facing away from you by the end of it. When she turned, her face was less hostile than before. She could give a TED talk on perfecting a neutral expression.

As she approached the door, she stopped just before crossing the threshold. Your forehead creased, confusion taking up residence on your face.

“I’m sorry.” Miranda said.

Her tone was so quiet that you almost missed it. But the way she kept her eyes on yours told you, she had really said it. She was waiting for a reaction.

“I forgive you.” You said back.

For the briefest of moments, you could’ve sworn you saw her smile. Then you blinked and it was gone. In an uncharacteristic move, Miranda placed her hand on your arm and squeezed. The absence when she left made you feel more bereft than any time she’d slighted you.

----

There were moments after that where you would catch glimpses of Miranda and she’d catch glimpses of you. Nothing was exchanged beyond a nod, or an awkward wave on your part. But there was less tension.

Opening night of the new show rolled around and two redheads decided to ambush you backstage after. It felt more commonplace than it should have, but Miranda’s appearance with them caught you off guard. Held in her hands was a bouquet of beautiful flowers.

“What’s all this?” You asked, a curious smile covering your face.

The question had been clearly directed at Caroline and Cassidy, but your eyes rested on Miranda. Her eyes were warmer, open -- like that first night at the townhouse, when you’d both had a few glasses of wine. You did everything you could not to blush under her scrutiny.

“My girls and I wished to congratulate you properly on a successful opening night.” Miranda supplied when the girl’s wrapped themselves around your middle.

“Ooh, properly?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah! We wanted to get you flowers, like the directors and actors on Broadway get.” Caroline said with a big smile and twinkling eyes.

“We also wished to invite you to have dinner with us at the townhouse, if you’re amenable to the idea.” Miranda added.

There was a long moment where Caroline and Cassidy shared surprised looks. You guessed that the flowers had been planned, but the dinner invitation hadn’t. A smirk pulled at your lips. It must mean something interesting if Miranda was acting out of the ordinary.

“I believe I’d like that,” You said finally, “but I have to get things shut down here before I go.”

“That is not a problem. We’ll wait outside, won’t we girls?”

Her tone was pointed and the twins released their vice grip on your waist, shuffling from the room with an odd look at you and their mother. You couldn’t help the laugh that passed your lips. Miranda unexpectedly moved towards you and placed the bouquet in your hand. The touch of her hand on yours surprised you, but what surprised you more was the light kiss she placed on your cheek.

“We’ll be waiting.” Was all she offered, before turning from the room and leaving you stunned.

The smile that broke over your face was so large your cheeks hurt. It was the last thing you’d ever hoped for, but the way Miranda was acting had left you feeling giddy. You nearly fell over several times in your haste to meet them outside.

----

Dinner was infinitely better with the twins present. You adored Miranda’s company, of course, but she fully lit up when they were in the room. Her shoulders would relax and her mouth would curl into a smile far easier. You loved watching it.

The girls were as mischievous as ever and didn’t go a second without telling one of you awkward stories about the other. An interesting tactic, but a fitting one, you had to admit. By the end of it all, your sides were aching with laughter. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so full of joy.

But the reality of a weeknight set in and the twins rushed up to bed, not before giving you a warm goodbye for the night. You watched them run up the stairs with a smile until they were out of sight. Then you turned back to Miranda, caught off guard by the softness still in her eyes.

“I suppose that’s my cue for the night. I’m afraid it’s past my bedtime.” You joked, earning a slightly upturn of Miranda’s lips.

“We certainly wouldn’t want you to be late for school tomorrow.” Miranda returned.

She led you to the door in a moment of quiet. The handle of the door was right within your grasp, but it didn’t feel right to reach for it. Something was missing. Something that hadn’t happened yet.

“I had a wonderful time this evening. Thank you for inviting me.” You said.

“The pleasure is all mine. You’ve been wonderful with my girls, they adore you.”

“And their mother?” You asked boldly.

You were rewarded with a small, but genuine smile from Miranda. The sight made you feel like jumping up and down or buying a lottery ticket. You had to be one in a billion people who’d ever received such an honor.

“I’d say she’s coming to share their sentiments.” Miranda said in a whisper.

Her eyes, which had been focused on yours, darted away to your lips. You couldn’t help but bite lightly at your bottom lip in anticipation. When she finally leant forward and kissed you, you swore you could fly. It was quick, nothing more than a brief press, but it was enough to intoxicate you.

As Miranda let you out the door, you couldn’t stop the smile on your face. And hidden behind the bannister a floor up, neither could two little redheads. The start of your relationship had been rocky, but from now on it’d only be smooth sailing.

#miranda priestly #miranda priestly x reader #tdwp #the devil wears prada #miranda priestly imagine #tdwp imagine #tdwp x reader #the devil wears prada imagine #wlw #wlw imagine #april2021 #multimilfswritings

[multimilfs]

Miranda Priestly x Fem!Reader: A Little Nudge

Summary: Anon requested “Could I request a slightly angsty Miranda Priestly X Reader? Maybe the reader is in the hospital (it's up to you why they're there) and they're panicking because they think they're gonna get fired. Miranda can replace them within the hour, after all.Miranda shows up to the hospital after hearing what happened and reassures Reader that they're fine. She confesses to the Reader because she was so scared something horrible had happened to them and she was gonna lose them. (sorry im just in a sad mood and im weak for hospital scenes)”

A/N: It’s been ages since I’ve written for TDWP so be kind to me, please! I really hope you like it!

Tag List: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul​ @multifandomfix​

Warning(s): None

“Why is nobody ready?”

Miranda drawled from behind her desk, glancing at her watch with annoyance. Everyone near her held their breath; nobody having the guts to tell her that it was because you weren’t back yet. 

You were supposed to be back with the accessories from D&G ten minutes ago.

Jocelyn and the run-through team exchanged terrified glances. Someone was going to lose their job today. And knowing Miranda, it was going to be one of them.

They had been relying on the accessories to complete the outfits they’d prepared. An abysmal thing to do, but you’d promised that you would be back early. Now you were nowhere to be found.

Miranda was conveniently unaware of your absence. She was under the impression you weren’t supposed to be back for some time, thanks to a few carefully worded statements from Nigel. If she got wind that you’d gone awol, it’d be hell on earth for everyone in the Runway offices.

Standing beside Miranda’s desk, Nigel saw Serena approach the office. The model stopped when Nigel shook his head. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Talk to Emily.” He mouthed silently.

She did just that, turning elegantly on her heel to see the Brit dialing numbers frantically. Poor Emily hadn’t even noticed that Serena was there.

“Why is Nigel telling me to talk to you?” Serena asked softly.

Emily startled slightly, before looking relieved to have some type of help. She put the phone down on the hook quickly.

“Y/N has vanished,” Emily whispered, “I can’t get her to answer her bloody cell phone and she was supposed to be here ages ago!”

“What do you mean she vanished? She doesn’t vanish.” Serena asked.

“You’re telling me. Jocelyn needed the accessories from the winter collection for the run-through and she promised to have them here. Miranda is two minutes from firing them all if we don’t come up with an excuse.”

Emily let her head fall into her hands, repeating her low mantra that she loved her job. Today was not going to be an easy one, it seemed.

A moment before Serena could suggest anything, Miranda’s cold voice echoed from her office.

“So what I’m hearing is that you failed to prepare? After I gave you countless days to finish a simple task.” Miranda asked.

Everyone winced at the chill in her voice. La Priestly wasn’t known for being warm, but this felt like frost-bite.

“We’re just missing the accessories for a few of the outfits.” Jocelyn offered.

Miranda’s hard gaze settled on the girl, making her regret speaking. Drawing attention to herself was the last thing she should have done.

“‘Just’ the accessories,” The editor said dryly, “If you were to go skydiving, I’m sure you’d be fine without a parachute then?”

Jocelyn shook her head quickly. The only way out of this would be for a miracle to strike. She was mentally kissing her job goodbye.

Then Emily’s cell phone rang.

Scrambling for the device, she could have jumped for joy to see your name on the caller ID. She was furious, mind you, but glad to see you were okay.

“Where the bloody hell are you?” Emily hissed in lieu of a greeting.

“Em, I can explain-“

“I’m sure you can, but it better be good or I’m throwing you La Priestly.”

“I’m in the hospital.” You said.

Emily inhaled sharply. She didn’t miss the way your voice cracked over those few words. It may mean more work for her, but an injury like that could cost you your job.

“What did you get yourself into?” Emily asked.

“The heat today exascerbated something and I collapsed, the doctors are running tests now.” You explained softly, lacking the energy you normally had.

Serena watched worriedly as Emily put her forehead down on the desk, letting out a defeated sigh. This felt like the icing on the cake of an already terrible day. She had no idea how to break it to Miranda. The woman was practically reliant on you and your abilities.

“Em?” You whispered over the line brokenly, “Tell Miranda I can have my desk cleared once I’m d-discharged, okay? I understand-“

“No. You-You don’t get to abandon me so close to Paris. I’ll find a way to fix this…”

“It’s okay. I understand what it takes to be one of Miranda’s girls. Collapsing on the job isn’t part of the description.”

“She can make an exception.” Emily snapped.

You sighed on the other end. It broke your heart that you’d probably lose everything now, but you understood that Miranda was far too busy to accept an injured assistant. Even if you did hope that she cared enough to keep you on.

“Do what you can, okay? Just don’t get yourself sacked. I’m at Presbeterian, room 311.”

There were a few more words exchanged before Emily hung up the phone, looking hard at Serena, who stared back with concern.

“Y/N is in the hospital.” She said quietly.

Serena stood with a look of shock on her face. What could have happened to put you in the hospital?

“How are you going to tell Miranda?” She asked instead.

“Beats me, but someone has to.” Emily laughed bitterly.

She stood and walked to the doorway of Miranda’s office, where the woman was regaling Nigel with the incompetence of her staff, who were standing in the room. Nigel noticed Emily and raised an eyebrow in question, to which she shook her head. His face seemed to pale.

Unsure of what to do or say, Emily remained standing in the doorway. She kept her hands clasped in front of her to keep from ringing them.

“Is there a reason for your hovering, Emily?” Miranda asked, her icy gaze resting on her poor assistant.

“Um, well.” She tried, but nothing came out. She froze.

“Do take your time. None of us have jobs to do.”

The editor rolled her eyes, a devious smirk resting on her face. She drew a sort of horrible glee from seeing her employees squirm.

“Y/N is in the hospital.” Serena said.

Any movement in the room stopped immediately. The run-through team held their breath, looking to Miranda.

Upon hearing the words, Miranda felt her heart drop into her stomach. Her hands gripped the edge of her desk hard. Besides something happening to her daughters, something happening to you had become her worst nightmare.

“Excuse me?” She asked, tone just above a whisper.

“She’s conscious, she called to let me know herself where she was,” Emily rushed out, before anyone could make the situation worse, “Something occurred that caused her to collapse, but-“

“I’ve heard enough.”

Miranda was out of her seat the second Emily mentioned that you were awake. That you weren’t gravely injured or in a coma. Her fear eased slightly, but it wouldn’t vanish until she saw you. She was barreling through the office without a care for what was on her agenda.

“Cancel any meetings for the rest of the day and get Roy here immediately. I want access to her room upon my arrival; I don’t care what favors you have to promise or whose egos you have to stroke, get me into that room.”

She snatched her coat and purse from Serena’s hands, rattling off the demands without slowing her pace. Then she was ensconced in the elevator while everyone looked at one another in shock.

“Do you think she’s going to fire her?” Emily asked Nigel, who laughed.

“I think that is the last thing she plans on doing. Now I’d get on the phone with Roy…”

Eyes widening, Emily let out a yelp, rushing towards her desk. Nigel just shook his head; of course Miranda would hold out on her feelings until you fell injured. She apparently just needed that final nudge. 

———

In your hospital room, you were trying valiantly to hold back tears. Your head was leant back against the pillows, eyes closed. All you could see was Miranda’s face in your mind.

You weren’t sure what happened; one second you were walking down 35th, the next a paramedic was standing over you hounding you for information. If you hadn’t been in an ambulance racing through traffic, you would have demanded they let you out. You had a job to do.

Now, you couldn’t. You had let down the editorial team and Miranda by proxy. It hurt you in a million different ways, but you accepted that you were out of a job. That you would no longer spend the days around the woman you secretly loved.

It sent a pang of pain through your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut against it. Remaining strong, even now, was important to you. It wouldn’t do to let your resolve crumble.

Absentmindedly, you heard someone walk into your room. You let out a loud sigh.

“Look, doc, I told you I’m fine. My head may be throbbing, but I’m not going to die on you. Though I may if I don’t get something other than hospital food.” You laughed.

“I’m sure that can be arranged.”

You snapped your eyes open at the voice that was clearly not your doctor’s. Standing there, looking divine as ever, was Miranda Priestly. The woman you were hopelessly in love with.

“Miranda?”

“No, Donald Trump.” She deadpanned, a smirk pulling at her mouth.

Did Miranda Priestly just make a joke? Your mind asked, though you couldn’t stop the grin that spread on your face. She looked pleased at your reaction.

“You didn’t have to come all this way, you know,” You said softly, reality creeping back in, “I told Emily that I could have my desk cleared as soon as they discharged me.”

“I beg your pardon?” Miranda said, feeling as if the breath had been stolen from her lungs.

“I know how busy your schedule is- Hell, I arranged it. You didn’t have to come all the way here to let me go.”

“Is that why you think I’m here? To fire you?”

“...Isn’t it?”

Miranda let out a hollow sounding laugh, pinching the bridge of her nose. You watched her with thinly veiled confusion. Then she walked to your bedside, hesitantly placing her hand on top of yours. Your heart stopped.

“Silly girl,” Miranda said softly, “Do you think I would come here for something as menial as that? Do you think I’d race here, heart pounding with fear, to fire you?”

You felt like you were in a dream. Given that you were in a hospital, it didn’t seem too outlandish that you were imagining it. But when Miranda leant in and placed a soft kiss on your lips, you knew this was reality. This was no mere dream.

She made to pull away from you, offended at your lack of response, but you wouldn’t let her. Grabbing the lapels of her blazer, you dragged her lips back to yours for a long kiss.

When you finally separated, you felt like you were riding a cloud. This was never what you expected to happen. It was wilder than your wildest dreams.

“So… I take it I’m not fired?” You asked with a cheeky smile.

And so overcome with happiness, Miranda let her normal mask drop, throwing her head back and letting out a joyful laugh.

#miranda priestly #miranda priestly x reader #tdwp #the devil wears prada #miranda priestly imagine #tdwp imagine #tdwp x reader #the devil wears prada imagine #wlw #wlw imagine #jan2021 #multimilfswritings

[kingpreciouswrld]

Office Surprises

Pairing: Miranda Priestly x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1k

Summary: After a very long business trip you finally get to see your beautiful dragon.

A/N: Well well well, we meet again. Honestly, this wouldn't be a thing if it wasn't for the anon on my tellonym who gave me this idea and talked about Miranda with me. This is for you, you wonderful human being 😊

––––––––––

You sighed as your plane finally landed.

Home sweet home.

It's been 2 years since you've been in New York; 2 years since you've held the love of your life and her little twin terrors.

It wasn't supposed to take this long. You thought the managers of your company branch in L.A. were actually competent. However, starting a new branch of a new company did have some issues, especially if that branch was on the other side of the Country.

When you first told Miranda about your trip she understood completely and encouraged you to build your ever growing empire. When you told her that it would take at least a year to solve issues you could see a flash of fear pass over her features. You knew of her worries about losing you and you were quick to reassure her that you would do everything in your power to come back home to her as quickly as possible. With the three hour time difference, you two planned out a calling schedule where you would video call each other at least twice a day.

The year of video calls turned into two years. You could slowly see and hear Miranda getting exhausted by the distance between you two. You heard from Nigel that Miranda was more fiery at work and that she fired at least five people the day you told her that you might need to be away for another year. Through catching up with Nigel, you interrupted him and told him of your plans of coming home. "Are you really? It's not nice to tease a dying man here Y/n/n."

You chuckled as you shook your head, "Yes Nige I'm actually coming home. I was actually planning on surprising our lovely Editor."

"Trust me, she was surprised when she knew she wanted to court me. She'll be happy about this surprise."

"Surprise? You know Miranda doesn't do surprises Y/n/n."

~~~~~~~~

Roy had dropped you off in front of the Elias-Clarke building after promising you to take your luggage home and come right back.

Not so subtly you panned the area around you as you knew that you didn't want to be seen by your dragon. After determining that the coast was clear, you promptly made your way into Miranda's outer office.

You couldn't help but smile as you took in the building looming over you. Your Miranda was in there. You were so close.

Bidding the security guards a good afternoon, you made your way into your own elevator and checked the time on your phone. Nigel said that Miranda would be in a meeting until 1 and it was 12:55. Beforehand you had Nigel to slip you in on Miranda's schedule as a very generous donator who needed to speak to the Editor.

As you came off of the elevator you could feel the butterflies in your stomach start zooming around. You couldn't help but feel giddy knowing that you'll see the love of your life in a few minutes. It's been 2 years. 2 of them.

~~~~~~~~

"That's all."

The white-haired editor picked up The Book and exited the conference room.

These past two years without her Y/n have been testing her patience even more so than usual but she couldn't help it. Y/n was her rock. Y/n would be there to hold her after a trying day at the office, to cook dinner for her, to keep her company as she went over The Book, to cuddle with her as they fell asleep. Although, at the end of the day, she understood that sacrifices needed to be made in order to climb the business ladder as she did so many years ago. She just couldn't help but miss her other half.

She kept a brisk pace as she walked down the halls. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see her employees avoiding her line of vision and scurry off to do whatever task they've been slacking on, scared to think that they'd be the next one in line to be unemployed.

As Nigel was on Miranda's tail, the editor was warning him about the mistakes made in The Book from the night before as well as Jocelyn's lack of readiness for the past two run-throughs and although Miranda couldn't see him, he nodded dutifully and responded in the usual 'Yes Miranda' or 'Of course Miranda'

Just as they reached the threshold of Miranda's outer office, Nigel stopped abruptly as he almost bumped into his boss. Miranda, however, was as still as a rock.

She couldn't believe what she was seeing.

How?

Why?

Is she dreaming?

Was Y/n really here?

Andy was just telling you that Miranda would be here shortly before you heard heels stop at the entrance to the outer office. Both you and Andrea turned to see a wide eyed editor and an amused Nigel.

"Miranda your one o'clock is here," you smiled cheekily and that seemed to break Miranda's trance.

"Darling..." Miranda whispered, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Before you could blink, Miranda was in your arms and brought you into a bruising kiss. Miranda used both of her hands to grip the back of your neck as she tried to pull you impossibly closer. You sighed into the kiss as the editor let out an almost inaudible whimper. Even after you two parted for air Miranda kept giving you small pecks before she hugged you fully, her head buried in your shoulder.

Unknown to the two of you, both Emily and Andy watched the scene with shock. Emily choked on air, gaping like a fish while Andy just looked on with wide eyes. They didn't know what to do. They wanted to look away but if they did, they wouldn't believe what was happening but even with looking at the couple they still couldn't believe their eyes.

Miranda Priestly kissed and held her lover in the Runway offices in front of other people.

Nigel shook his head in amusement at the two assistants. Miranda and you weren't out publicly yet so of course the two assistants were malfunctioning at the editor being so loving and open. Honestly, being in the fashion industry, having a gay editor-in-chief shouldn't be all that surprising.

#miranda priestly #the devil wears prada #tdwp #miranda priestly x reader #meryl streep

[multifandomfix]

Imagine Miranda whispering a salacious compliment in your ear while you’re at a fashion show with her.

You were seated in the front row next to Miranda as you watched the winter collections of numerous designers pass by you on the runway. As Miranda fixated on the models and the clothes, she placed a hand softly on your knee, leaning in close to you. All of your attention was now solely on her.

"You look stunning in that dress I bought you, but once we're done here, I think I’m going to like it a whole lot more when it’s off."

Of course, you couldn’t react to her comment, not so publicly, anyway, so you simply bit your lip. Of course this only got you a wicked smirk from Miranda. For the rest of the fashion show, you couldn’t concentrate on a single part of it. All that swam through your head was thoughts of what would take place afterwards.

For anon

Miranda Priestly Tag: @iticaboopsyou

#miranda priestly #miranda priestly imagine #miranda priestly x reader #😈 #the devil wears prada #the devil wears prada imagine #tdwp #tdwp imagine #request #send requests #requests open

[multifandomfix]

Imagine Miranda taking you out for dinner, assuming you knew it was a date.

You felt somewhat underdressed for the restaurant Miranda had taken you to. You knew Miranda had expensive taste, but this seemed a little extravagant even for her.

"Are we on a date right now," you asked, peeking over your menu.

"Was there another reason you thought I asked you to dinner?"

"I, well, you never told me it was a date."

"I thought you knew," Miranda stated. "You’re free to leave if that’s what you want."

"No. I don’t want to leave. I’m just glad we're on the same page now."

For anon

#miranda priestly #miranda priestly imagine #miranda priestly x reader #the devil wears prada #the devil wears prada imagine #tdwp #tdwp imagine #dec2020 #request #send requests #requests open