merylstreepsworld - Tumblr blog

merylstreepsworld · 3 months

Text

The Ménage à Moi

Warning: Sex

Pairing: Frankie Bergstein x Fem!Reader

Summary: Frankie is ecstatic to show off her newest project to her girlfriend.

Word count: 1,286

Authors note: Since this is my first Frankie fic, I figured why not just start off with a bang! Hope you enjoy~ ♡

On an ordinary day, Frankie, your affectionate girlfriend, and her dear friend Grace found themselves in the heart of their beach house, the dining room. Anticipation hung in the air as they eagerly awaited the arrival of a long-anticipated package, a subject Frankie had passionately shared with you. In animated detail, she had recounted her days spent with Grace, providing a vivid narrative of their shared experiences and collaborative brainstorming sessions.

As the two women waited with bated breath for any update on the much-anticipated delivery, you found solace and inspiration in the artistic haven of the studio. Immersed in the strokes of creativity, you painted away, engrossed in a captivating art project.

"[Your name]! [Your name]! The Ménage à Moi has arrived!" Frankie's exuberant voice echoes through the art studio, breaking the serene atmosphere. Startled, you turn to face your ecstatic girlfriend, who enters the room with infectious joy, cradling a sizable vibrator in her hands.

"Congratulations, darling!" you exclaim, rising from your stool and extending your arms for an embrace. However, Frankie, in her sheer excitement, bypasses the hug altogether, grabbing your hand and guiding you towards the bedroom. "We've got to try this thing out right now!" she insists, her enthusiasm palpable.

In the bedroom, she directs you onto the bed, gently pushing you back onto the plush comforter. Chuckling at her eagerness, you prop yourself up on your elbows. In a whirlwind of excitement, your heart races as clothes are hastily discarded, creating a frenzied atmosphere. Frankie, always a master of sensuality, takes pride in the creation, and it's evident in the eagerness with which she now wants to share it with you. Frankie wastes no time, climbing on top of you and straddling your hips.

Biting your lower lip at the sight, you playfully question, "Really? Now?" Her response is immediate and resolute. "Absolutely now!" she declares, leaving no room for hesitation. You chuckle and shrug, surrendering to her enthusiasm. "Whatever madame wants," you tease, ready to indulge in the excitement of the moment.

Leaning down, she places tender kisses on your lips before trailing a path down your cheek, jawline, neck, and stomach. Her journey continues over the tops of your thighs, each touch leaving you breathless.

Frankie's slow and deliberate approach has always been enough to ignite your desires, and right now, you're already on the brink of ecstasy. Suppressing moans, you close your eyes, trying to relax. The anticipation builds as she whispers in your ear, "Are you ready, my goddess?" Your response is a whimper and a nod, unable to form coherent words in the face of such anticipation. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as the hum of the vibrator fills the air, causing your heart to race even faster.

"Good girl," Frankie purrs, her satisfaction evident even without you seeing her expression. Frankie, relishing in the anticipation, teases you by running the vibrator up and down the tops of your thighs, drawing out the delicious torture.

Unable to endure much more, you growl through gritted teeth, "Ooh, good god, you're such a tease!" Feeling the vibrations intensify along the inside of your thigh has you squirming. Frankie, sassy yet loving, retorts, "But you love me!" Before you can respond with a witty remark, she takes the plunge.

The moment the vibrator reaches that perfect spot, you're transported to another realm. Your world explodes into a symphony of sensations. Stars dance before your eyes as Frankie skillfully maneuvers the device, coaxing sounds from you that only she has the ability to elicit. In the symphony of pleasure, you find yourself screaming in ecstasy, completely under Frankie's expert and loving control.

Your body is swiftly engulfed in waves of pure ecstasy. Your back arches involuntarily, fingers gripping the sheets tightly into fists, and your mouth hangs open, allowing uninhibited moans to escape freely. It becomes evident that this particular device is introducing an entirely new dimension to your intimate escapades.

"Doesn't that feel good, baby? You like that?" Frankie's voice, sensual and deep, breaks through the haze of pleasure. Typically, you would offer some form of response, whether a nod or a grunt, but in this heightened state, all coherent thoughts escape you. Instinctively, you reach for the back of her neck with one hand, guiding her face to the side of your head, her mouth near your ear. Your mind is a blank canvas, incapable of processing anything beyond the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.

The pleasure intensifies, the rhythmic hum of the vibrator now accompanied by the sound of your quickening heartbeat. Frankie's whispers cut through, urging you to let go. "Come on, baby, just let go for me. I want you to come," she encourages, her words adding to the already intoxicating experience. A whimper escapes your lips as a growing, tightening sensation builds in your stomach, and Frankie peppers kisses along the side of your neck. Your breathing transforms from deep inhales to short, ragged bursts, a symphony of pleasure orchestrated by Frankie's skilled command over the device.

Frankie's unwavering rhythm, her intuitive understanding of your desires, pushes you closer and closer. You teeter on the edge, feeling the climax approach with each consistent movement Frankie expertly delivers. Then, with one final, perfectly timed movement, you surrender to the overwhelming sensation, crying out as your body convulses in ecstasy. Through the haze of pleasure, you hear Frankie's voice, dripping with pride. "Good girl... you did so well," she whispers, her words wrapping around you like a warm embrace, confirming her satisfaction and your accomplishment in equal measure.

With your eyes gently closed, a profound sense of exhaustion envelops you. The rhythmic hum of the vibrator ceases, leaving you with lips parted and breath ragged. The aftermath of the experience is a testament to its intensity, a sensation unlike anything you've ever felt. Though you yearn to express your thoughts to Frankie, to shower her with congratulations for this extraordinary success, your body remains unresponsive.

The bed shifts as Frankie settles down beside you, lying on her side. Her hand glides tenderly across your naked body, tracing invisible patterns along the smooth expanse of your stomach. Gradually mustering enough strength, you turn your head to face her, opening your eyes just enough to catch a glimpse of her breathtaking visage. With her head propped up in her hand, she gazes down at you, and as you muster the courage to speak, your voice cracks slightly, prompting a blush to color your cheeks.

"Congratulations," you manage to utter after a few minutes, your voice a mix of awe and appreciation. Frankie, however, responds with warmth and admiration, praising your performance. "Thank you for letting me test it out on you. You did so well, my darling girl." Her words send your heart soaring, and you bite your lower lip, attempting to contain the radiant smile that threatens to break through. "Anytime," you reply, managing another smile before closing your eyes once more.

"Oh... but I'm so using that on you next time," you whisper breathlessly, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you conjure vivid images of how you'll captivate the older woman with the same electrifying device. The air is thick with the lingering echoes of pleasure, creating an atmosphere charged with anticipation.

"I'll be waiting," she coos back, her voice dripping with a subtle combination of allure and a smirk that hints at the playful reciprocity to come. Frankie's hand continues its gentle exploration, trailing up to your cheek. Her touch is delicate, caressing the flushed skin with tenderness. "I know that took a lot out of you, so just rest now, honey," she whispers, her words as sweet and caring as her actions. The lingering kiss she places on your forehead serves as the perfect conclusion, melting your heart as her voice and touch become the last sensations to register in your mind.

As you drift off into a peaceful slumber, you find solace in the arms of the modest and perfect woman you know, content in the afterglow of an intimate and unforgettable experience.

#fanfic #frankie bergstein x reader #frankie bergstein #lily tomlin #grace and frankie

11 notes · View notes

merylstreepsworld · 3 months

Text

Frankie Bergstein Masterlist

Headcanons:

Nothing yet ;(

Oneshots:

The Ménage à Moi

Multi part stories:

Nothing yet ;(

Imagines:

Nothing yet ;(

Preferences:

Nothing yet ;(

#lily tomlin #frankie bergstein #frankie bergstein x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #masterlist

4 notes · View notes

merylstreepsworld · 3 months

Text

I just finished Grace and Frankie... and I've totally fallen in love with Frankie. I was wondering if anyone would be interested if I started writing for her? If so, my next dilemma is do I make another account or use this one (which I technically consider to be my Meryl account)

Thanks in advance! ♡~

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #writers on tumblr

0 notes

merylstreepsworld · 3 months

Text

Imagine Being Miranda's Long-lost Daughter.

Authors Note: This is a really... really long imagine. This is definitely not a type of story I ever thought I'd write (because it's not romance between Miranda and the reader) but I'm happy to write it anyways! So, thank you for the request, @awesome93

Your life started in and out of foster homes, the search for a forever home seeming elusive. At 18, FIT (The Fashion Institute of Technology) became your refuge, a pursuit in the realm of fashion unfolding. In your third year, fate intertwined your path with Professor Isabel Harrington, a 47-year-old beacon of wisdom. She taught your fashion design class.

Stepping into her class felt like entering a realm where love blossomed. Events unfolded, forging a deep connection between you two. Isabel, a mother to two stunning teens, Clara, 11, and Charlotte, 13, became the anchor of your world.

Despite the girls being born from Isabel's previous marriage, your love for them knows no bounds. You shower them with affection as if they were your own. Now, at 25, happily married to Isabel, you proudly embrace Clara and Charlotte as your daughters, a testament to the family that love built.

One evening, after tucking the children into bed, exhaustion from the day lingering, you find yourself preparing for bed, your back turned to the door. Suddenly, Isabel, your wife, emerges and begins planting kisses on your neck. Gasping and giggling, you playfully protest, "Honey! We haven't even had a chance to talk about our day."

She continues her affectionate assault on your neck, undeterred. "Oh, hmmm okay," she begins, still showering you with kisses. "I got a email from Runway Magazine. They caught wind of my success as a professor of fashion design at FIT from a news article. They want me to do an interview with Miranda Priestly herself."

"Oh my gosh! Darling, that's incredible! Wow! When is the interview?" Your excitement radiates as you turn around in her embrace, draping your arms around her shoulders. Isabel, undeterred, continues to shower kisses down your neck, her passion evident.

"Mmm... next Friday is our first meeting. We'll work out the details there," she responds, humming softly against your skin. Her answers become clipped as her passion intensifies, still lavishing you with kisses.

"Perfect. We've got to get you something incredibly sexy to wear!" you exclaim, pulling her close as she guides you against the dresser. Her hands firmly grip your hips. "Sure," she mutters, her descent continuing, leaving a trail of warmth and anticipation.

"I want you to be there for it all," she whispers, pulling back to gaze into your eyes.

"This is your moment to shine, honey. I don't want to take that away from you," you respond, compassion and love evident in your gaze.

"No," she states firmly. "I want you to be there with me. I want you by my side. I'm scared."

Your eyebrows furrow, and you gently cup her cheeks. "You've taught thousands of students over the years. Nothing can be scarier than that," you chuckle, leaning in to place a soft, tender kiss filled with love on her lips. "But I'll go if you want me to," you run a hand through her blonde hair, now beginning to show signs of gray.

"Thank you," she mutters before reciprocating with a gentle kiss, the warmth of your love bridging any fears that linger.

Miranda's POV:

The week preceding the email sent to Professor Isabel Harrington, Miranda Priestly struts down the hallway, her stilettos clicking with such intensity that one might fear she would crack the tiles on the floor. Power and confidence radiate from her every step. Upon arriving at her desk, an article is laid squarely in her line of sight. It features Mrs. Isabel Harrington, a professor at FIT, and her wife, Mrs. [Your Name]. Miranda stares blankly at the paper, her eyes scanning the picture, then the article. This couldn't be... no, it's not possible.

Immediately, she picks up the phone and dials the only possible number she can think of. After several days of relentless investigation, without her assistant's help, as this is a profoundly personal matter, she finally uncovers the answer she's been seeking. DNA results from the adoption center link her and [Your Name] as mother and daughter. Miranda leans back in her chair, staring at the email in disbelief. After taking a moment to collect herself, she sits up and calls her assistant in.

"I want you to get Professor Isabel Harrington here for a meeting next week. I want to interview her for next month's magazine," she instructs, her voice holding a mix of determination and a hint of the personal revelation that has just rocked her world.

Your POV:

On the day of the interview, you enter the room with deliberate steps, each stride carrying the weight of anticipation. Trying to exude an air of confidence, you and Isabel walk hand in hand, fingers interlaced. The warmth of your grip provides reassurance, and you intermittently squeeze her hand, a silent expression of encouragement.

Whispering softly in her ear, you affirm, "You're going to do great." The sentiment lingers in the air, offering a touch of comfort amidst the nerves. You've been a meticulous companion in this journey, playing a crucial role in selecting the stunning pant suit that now drapes Isabel's form. The fabric gracefully accentuates her gorgeous physique, a masterpiece tailored to perfection.

This isn't just any suit; it's a manifestation of your dedication. You've specially tailored it to her measurements, a ritual you perform with all her pant suits worn during lectures and around the campus. Yet, this one holds a distinct significance, a garment crafted for a pivotal moment. Standing beside Isabel, you radiate pride, a subtle glow that mirrors the admiration you feel for the remarkable woman at your side. The interview awaits, a stage where Isabel's brilliance is poised to shine, and you stand beside her, a silent pillar of unwavering support.

Approaching Miranda Priestly's office, your stomach flips with nerves. Leading up to this moment, Miranda's assistant had been introducing the topics that will be discussed in the meeting. Stepping into her office, your eyes meet Miranda's as she sits behind her desk. An instant connection, but one you can't quite place. She rounds her desk, shaking your hand first, then Isabel's.

Throughout the meeting, your gaze remains fixed on Miranda. Something about her draws you in, an inexplicable connection that leaves you puzzled.

As the meeting concludes, you exit with a sense of confusion and a yearning to know more about Miranda.

Late into the night, in your home office, you search relentlessly into Miranda and her past until you find one article, one hint at a possible connection. The headline reads: "Priestly, rising fashion star, gives birth."

A million questions swirl in your mind. About to click the article, you feel arms around your neck from behind. Jumping, you quickly change the tab, pretending to browse Facebook. "You know... you could come check out my face in bed," the sweet, sultry voice of your wife resonates through your ears. You can hear the smirk in her voice.

"You know... maybe I will," you respond with a smirk of your own, shutting the computer down, leaving the mystery of Miranda Priestly for another time.

Several weeks pass, marked by the interview and your continued investigation into Miranda's background, fueling a growing suspicion that she might indeed be your biological mother.

As fate would have it, your connection with Miranda deepens, leading to an invitation to an event where she is scheduled to speak. However, Miranda goes beyond and extends the invitation to Isabel, inviting her to share insights about her time as a professor at FIT. The unexpected opportunity throws Isabel into a bit of a tizzy, but with your unwavering love and support, she agrees to take the stage.

Tonight is the event, and you find yourself standing beside Miranda as you watch Isabel ascend the stage. Pride swells within you as she stands at the podium, ready to address the audience. Miranda's voice, like a gentle breeze, grazes your ear as she leans down to whisper, "Isabel's lucky to have you. Does she make you happy?" The tone, surprisingly motherly, echoes in your ear.

"Yes, she makes me indescribably happy. She's the love of my life," you respond with a huge grin, your eyes fixed on your wife. As she places her notebook on the podium, preparing to begin her speech, the atmosphere tingles with anticipation, and you can't help but marvel at the intricate threads weaving together the past and the present.

As Isabel steps off the stage, you rush over to her, practically catapulting yourself into her arms, showering her with kisses. "Aw, my poor darling... you're shaking!" you exclaim, holding onto her. "Let's get you a drink!" With a deep kiss on the lips, Isabel enthusiastically nods. As you turn to head towards the bar, Miranda steps up beside the two of you.

"That was a lovely speech," she remarks, handing glasses of champagne to both you and Isabel. "I'm honored you think so, Mrs. Priestly," Isabel beams before taking a sip of her bubbly champagne. You slip your arm around her waist, pulling her close to your side. She smiles at you before continuing, "I couldn't have done it without this wonderful woman by my side."

Blushing profusely at her compliment, you shake your head. "No, all I did was bring you hot cocoa to your desk in the middle of the night and curl up with you by the fire while you wrote." Your tone carries a teasing lilt, and Isabel shakes her head in playful disagreement. "She's always so modest; I don't know where she gets that from," Isabel turns to Miranda, teasing in good fun. You giggle at this exchange, but as you glance at Miranda, you notice a hint of hurt in her expression.

"Hey, don't worry about it. We joke about my foster parents—or lack thereof—all the time," you address Miranda now, attempting to ease the tension. She tries to even her face as she nods, accepting your words with a subtle gratitude that flickers in her eyes.

After a few moments, Miranda speaks up, "[Your Name], may I speak to you in private?" she requests just as you take another sip of champagne. Before you can respond, Miranda's assistant briskly walks over, talking to her in a hushed voice, ushering her towards the stage. Miranda flashes a somewhat apologetic look to you while saying, "I must do my speech now." Your gaze follows her as she ascends the stairs to the stage and approaches the podium, the entire room falling into a hushed silence.

"This evening has been incredible and full of such enrichment about the life of a professor at FIT. Professor Harrington's speech about her battles and triumphs over the years was truly inspiring," Miranda pauses, her eyes downcast at the podium, the pause lingering longer than necessary. "Tonight I'd like to share with you a triumph and battle of my own. Something I've had to deal with for the past 25 years. It might not be well known, but 25 years ago I had a baby girl. But due to the circumstances of my career, it didn't seem fair to keep her. I wanted her to have a better mother, a better family, a better life."

As Miranda shares this revelation, your throat constricts, feeling as though thorns are tightening around it. She continues, "But about a month ago... I found an article. One that featured the inspiring and incredible Professor Isabel Harrington. Beside that accomplished woman stood... my daughter. My long-lost daughter. A grown woman, much different than the little girl I cherished in my heart. Though I mean different in the best way possible."

Miranda pauses once more, her gaze locking onto you, still standing off to the side of the stage with tears now streaking down your face. "So I'd like for you all to meet my daughter, [Your Name]." Miranda holds out her hand, signaling for you to join her on stage. A quick glance at Isabel reveals her tears too. She kisses your cheek, then gives your hip a little pat to send you up there. As you ascend the stairs, the moment feels surreal.

This moment unfolds like a fairytale as Miranda envelops you in a warm embrace, whispering in your ear, "I have no idea what the future holds, or if you even want me in your life after I gave you up. I can't change the past, but I can try to do better in the future. I want you to know I love you and will never want to let you go..." The words linger, creating a tapestry of emotions as the past and present collide on the stage.

Inhaling deeply, you cherish this moment as you hold Miranda tighter, the weight of the revelation and the years apart encapsulated in this embrace. Through the tears that cascade down your face, all you can manage is a heartfelt whisper, "I love you too." The words linger in the air, carrying the essence of forgiveness, understanding, and the profound connection rekindled after decades of separation.

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

65 notes · View notes

merylstreepsworld · 4 months

Text

An Awkward Encounter...

Pairing: Miranda Priestly x Fem!Reader

Summary: Miranda walks in on Andy and her wife (you) having a tense encounter.

Word count: 1,179

Authors note: Thanks to @awesome93 for the request. I hope you enjoy the read!

As the early morning sunlight filtered through the towering skyscrapers of New York City, Andy Sachs hurried along the bustling streets, a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in her mind. Today, like many others, promised to be a challenge in the high-stakes world of fashion at Runway Magazine. Juggling the demanding whims of Miranda Priestly, the elusive and formidable editor-in-chief, Andy was feeling the weight of her relentless duties pressing upon her shoulders.

The elevator dinged as Andy stepped onto the bustling floor of Runway Magazine. In her well-tailored attire, she navigated the buzzing hive of desks and high-fashion conversations, her focus entirely on getting through the day unscathed.

As the clock struck noon, Andy's day had already been a whirlwind of deadlines, temperamental colleagues, and Miranda's insatiable demands. Her stress levels peaked when she was tasked with coordinating a last-minute photo shoot, pushing her patience to the brink.

In the midst of this chaos, a commotion at the entrance caught Andy's attention. She glanced over to see an elegantly dressed woman, her face exuding an air of familiarity, striding purposefully towards Miranda's office. Andy's mind, already clouded with stress, failed to place the woman, and she dismissed her as an unfamiliar guest or possibly an intruder attempting to gain unauthorized access.

Without a second thought, Andy intercepted the woman, her tone clipped and dismissive, "I'm sorry, but you can't just barge in here. You'll have to schedule an appointment like everyone else."

Your expression shifted from determination to confusion, a glint of hurt appearing in your eyes. "I'm here to see Miranda," you said calmly, your voice carrying a hint of authority.

Andy's impatience reached its peak, her own frustrations bubbling to the surface. "Look, Miranda's busy. I can't have you disrupting her schedule. Please leave," she insisted, her tone sharper than intended.

In that moment, feeling rebuffed and unrecognized, you stood at a loss for words, caught between offense and bewilderment. Andy's behavior escalated the tension, unknowingly creating an uncomfortable scene within the prestigious halls of Runway Magazine.

You stood there, your mind swirling with a tumultuous mix of emotions. The slow realization crept over you that Andy, Miranda's second assistant, remained entirely oblivious to your identity. The pang of being brushed aside, not as Miranda's wife but as an unwelcome stranger, cut deeper than you had anticipated. Before you could collect your thoughts to respond, a shift in the atmosphere unfolded around you.

A sharp click of heels resonated through the corridor, heralding the arrival of Miranda Priestly, the commanding force behind Runway Magazine. Her penetrating gaze swept over the scene, assessing the situation with a discerning eye that missed nothing.

"Andrea, what seems to be the issue here?" Miranda's voice, calm and composed, carried a subtle undertone that hinted at her curiosity.

Andy, catching on to Miranda's presence, straightened abruptly. Her eyes widened ever so slightly as she darted glances between Miranda and yourself, her composure momentarily faltering. A realization flickered across her face before she attempted to regain control.

"Miranda, this person insisted on seeing you without an appointment," Andy replied, her tone slightly defensive.

Miranda's gaze shifted to you, a faint crease forming between her brows as she picked up on the subtle signs of confusion and hurt in your eyes. Without missing a beat, Miranda's quick wit and authoritative presence interjected, "Andrea, allow me to introduce you to someone rather important." She paused for effect, her piercing gaze fixed on Andy. "This is my wife."

The air seemed to still, every word carrying weight as the realization dawned on Andy. Her eyes widened incrementally, her mouth slightly agape as the pieces fell into place. A wave of mortification washed over her as the gravity of her earlier dismissiveness hit her with full force.

"I... I'm so sorry, I didn't realize," Andy stammered, her voice laced with regret and disbelief at her own misjudgment.

You, though momentarily taken aback, managed a composed nod, masking the sting of being overlooked. Holding your head high, you concealed the hurt that lingered beneath the surface, maintaining a poised demeanor despite the awkwardness of the encounter.

Miranda, ever perceptive, registered the nuances of the situation, extended her hand towards you with a rare tenderness in her eyes. In a moment of silent understanding, you placed your hand in hers, allowing her to take the lead. The gesture was surprisingly gentle, a departure from Miranda's usual commanding demeanor.

Without a word, Miranda guided you towards her office, her grip firm yet reassuring. The bustling chaos of Runway's corridors gradually faded as the door to her sanctuary swung open. As you stepped into the elegantly appointed room, Miranda's office became a haven of confidentiality.

The door closing behind you, offering a brief reprieve from the prying eyes of Runway's bustling chaos. The transition from the chaotic exterior to the serene interior was palpable. Miranda, still holding your hand, led you towards the plush chair, the unspoken promise of an honest and open conversation hanging in the air.

As you settled into the plush chair, Miranda's usually stern countenance softened, and she spoke with a rare tenderness, "I apologize for the rather unceremonious introduction, my love. Andrea appears to have let the day's chaos cloud her already feeble focus."

Nodding, you appreciated Miranda's reassurance, yet you couldn't shake the lingering emotions from the encounter. "It caught me off guard, Miranda. I never expected to feel like a stranger within these walls."

Miranda sighed, and her eyes betrayed a mix of regret and understanding. "I've allowed my dedication to this place create a divide between us, and for that, I am truly sorry."

As Miranda spoke, the weight of her words hung in the air. She revealed the toll her unwavering commitment to Runway had taken on your relationship, recounting the missed moments and the growing sense of isolation. The barriers built over time became apparent, forcing you to confront the stark reality of emotional distance.

Although hurt, you found solace in the honesty of the conversation. The vulnerability in Miranda's eyes hinted at a desire for change, a willingness to prioritize the relationship over the relentless demands of the fashion world.

Miranda, sensing the need for action, began outlining a plan to rekindle the connection between you two. She acknowledged the necessity of balancing work and personal life, signaling a shift in priorities. It became evident that Miranda was willing to make an effort to bridge the gap that had widened over the years.

The revelation of Miranda's vulnerability, a side rarely exposed to the world, resonated deeply. Her acknowledgment of the impact her relentless dedication had on your relationship hinted at a genuine desire for connection. The conversation became a turning point, a moment where the intricate threads of your shared history were being rewoven.

In the days that followed, Miranda upheld her promise, making small but meaningful gestures to bridge the emotional gap. Unexpected phone calls, stolen moments of shared laughter, and even a rare evening away from the office marked the beginning of a new chapter.

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

69 notes · View notes

merylstreepsworld · 4 months

Text

Gliding Through Love

Pairing: Loretta Durkin x Fem!reader

Word count: 1,283

Summary: Eager to embrace the Christmas magic, you and Loretta embark on an enchanting adventure.

During the festive season in New York City, the streets transform into a dazzling spectacle. Vibrant lights dance in intricate patterns, adorning the bustling streets and storefronts adorned with enchanting Christmas decorations. As you eagerly traverse the lively sidewalks, you clutch Loretta's hand, the excitement palpable in your hurried pace. With flushed cheeks against the brisk city air, you urge her forward, captivated by the radiant displays enveloping you.

Under the radiant, twinkling city lights of New York City at night, Loretta stands, a vision of wonder and affection. Her eyes, alight with a blend of amazement and love, reflect the luminous atmosphere surrounding you both. The soft glow highlights the interwoven strands of her silver and light brown hair, styled into two charming braids cascading over her shoulders, framing her face like ethereal adornments.

Wrapped snugly in a puffy, insulated coat, she exudes warmth against the frigid cold, the garment a shield against the winter's bite. A funky hat, its neutral tones harmonizing with the jacket, crowns her head, adding a touch of whimsy to her ensemble while keeping her head cozy.

Her hands, clad in gloves, perfectly fit within your own, forming a seamless connection even amidst the layers of warmth. As her gaze meets yours, the city's glittering backdrop seems to pale in comparison to the radiance emanating from her eyes, suffused with a mix of fascination for the surroundings and an unmistakable affection directed towards you. In this enchanting moment, the night's luminosity only serves to accentuate the captivating sight of Loretta, a portrait of beauty and love under the shimmering cityscape.

"Come on! Come on!" Your voice exudes enthusiasm as you guide her through the illuminated thoroughfares. Loretta, trailing behind, hastens to keep up, her soft laughter echoing in the wintry atmosphere.

Amidst this spectacle, your ultimate destination emerges – Rockefeller Center. Before you stands the colossal Christmas tree, towering majestically above, eliciting a sense of wonder. Your gaze ascends, mouth agape, as you share the moment with the older woman by your side, both bundled up against the cold in woolen coats and hats. "It's amazing," you breathe in a hushed tone, awestruck by the grandeur.

Loretta's giggles intermingle with your marvel, her affectionate gesture nudging your shoulder as she leans closer, arm intertwining with yours. "It is pretty amazing," she whispers, drawing nearer to you.

As your attention briefly shifts from the magnificent tree to Loretta, the gleam of the twinkling lights reflects in her eyes, rendering her absolutely resplendent. "Come on! Let's go ice skating!" With renewed excitement, you tug at her arm, her laughter trailing behind as she follows, reveling in your eagerness.

With skates secured and excitement brimming, you both make your way onto the glistening ice after securing and lacing up your skates, each lending a hand to the other. As you tentatively tread onto the rink, Loretta grasps your hand for support. Gripping the railing tightly, you're resolute, determined to maintain your balance.

Amidst the initial wobbles, Loretta extends her other hand for stability. "We got this," you assert optimistically, attempting to infuse encouragement into the skating venture. Tentatively, your legs set into motion – right, left, a cautious glide. Meanwhile, Loretta relies on your guidance, holding onto you as you navigate the ice together.

Playfully teasing, you quip to Loretta about her apparent lack of skating and your carrying the load. "Looks like someone's enjoying a free ride while I do all the skating," you jest, nudging her playfully

Loretta chuckles, her laughter ringing in the crisp air. her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Well, I've got the best view from here, don't I?" Her playful banter matches your own, her fingers tightening around yours for reassurance.

As the ice beneath your skates glimmers with reflected light, you take on the role of Loretta's impromptu skating instructor. With patience and care, you offer guidance, gently encouraging her to find her balance and rhythm on the ice.

Positioning yourself beside her, your arm becomes a steady support as you guide her through the initial strides. "Relax your stance, darling," you suggest, your voice calm and reassuring. "Feel the ice beneath your blades. You've got this."

With deliberate movements, you demonstrate the basic techniques, demonstrating how to shift weight from one foot to the other, gliding with controlled motions. As Loretta tentatively follows suit, you offer words of encouragement, adjusting your pace to match hers.

"Lean slightly forward, that's it," you advise, your hand lightly resting on her back for added stability. "Now, push off gently and let the ice carry you."

With each instruction, Loretta gains more confidence, her movements gradually becoming smoother. You stay close, offering continuous support and guidance, celebrating every small triumph together. Through your patience and encouragement, she begins to find her own rhythm, slowly but surely gaining the confidence to skate more independently.

In a seamless transition, both of you glide across the ice, hand in hand, effortlessly navigating the rink. Amidst the graceful movements, conversation flows freely between you, voices mingling with the soft sounds of skates gliding against the icy surface. Your gloved fingers intertwine, forming a warm and intimate connection despite the wintry surroundings.

After reveling in the joy of skating, the suggestion of indulging in some comforting hot cocoa meets swift agreement from Loretta. "Oh, some hot cocoa sounds amazing right now!" she exclaims, cheeks flushed with a rosy hue from both the exhilaration of skating and the frosty air. A gentle, chilled kiss lands on her equally cold cheek, eliciting a deeper blush in response.

Guided by Loretta, you both find yourselves at a beloved café. Nestled in its cozy ambiance, you eagerly order steaming mugs of hot cocoa to chase away the lingering chill from the skating excursion.

Seated together at a secluded corner table, you relish the warmth that seeps through the ceramic cups cradled between your palms. Gloves removed, you embrace the heat, savoring the comforting sensation as it gradually soothes your cold fingers. As the hot cocoa reaches the perfect sipping temperature, you close your eyes momentarily, a contented smile gracing your lips. "Mmm, perfect," you murmur, the warmth spreading through you with each delightful sip.

Following suit, Loretta takes a sip, mirroring your posture, her expression mirroring your satisfaction as the comforting heat spreads within her. Both of you share a moment of quiet contentment, wrapped in the comforting embrace of the hot cocoa and each other's company.

As the night deepens, enveloping the city in its serene embrace, you and Loretta draw closer, seeking warmth not just from the surroundings but from each other's presence. Snuggled closer, you find comfort in the simple pleasure of being together, the shared silence speaking volumes about the depth of your connection.

Wrapped in the quietude of the café, the ambiance around you fades into the background, leaving only the gentle hum of conversations and the occasional clink of cups. In these moments, words become secondary; the shared glance, the subtle touch, and the warmth radiating between you convey everything that needs to be said.

In this tranquil atmosphere, contentment thrives, not reliant on words but on the sheer delight of sharing this serene interlude with someone special. Each passing minute strengthens the bond between you, the unspoken understanding deepening with every shared moment.

Finally, as the night matures, the time comes to bid adieu to the enchanting Christmas wonderland of New York City. With a lingering hug and a promise of more adventures, you and Loretta venture back into the crisp night air, hearts warmed not just by the hot cocoa but by the enduring warmth of a cherished connection, illuminated by the magical glow of Christmas in the city.

#meryl streep #merylstreep #meryl streep x reader #loretta durkin x reader #loretta durkin #only murders in the building #christmas fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

22 notes · View notes

merylstreepsworld · 4 months

Text

Loretta Durkin Masterlist

Headcanons:

Nothing yet ;(

Oneshots:

Gliding Through Love

Multi Part Stories:

Nothing yet ;(

Imagines:

Nothing yet ;(

Preferences:

Nothing yet ;(

#meryl streep #merylstreep #meryl streep x reader #loretta durkin #loretta durkin x reader #only murders in the building #masterlist

11 notes · View notes

merylstreepsworld · 5 months

Text

Imagine coming home to Miranda after being gone for work:

Racing through the dimly lit streets, the distant echoes of your tires against the pavement fill the night as you make your way back home. The inky blackness of the sky above is interrupted only by the occasional flicker of a streetlamp passing by. Your mind is consumed with the thought of finally reuniting with Miranda, your wife, after an arduous work conference that kept you apart for what felt like an eternity.

Pulling up in front of the townhouse, a surge of anticipation courses through you, overriding any fatigue from the late hour. With a quick flick of the car's ignition, you leap out and dash down the quiet block, the pavement cool against your hurried steps. Your heart races faster than your feet as you reach for the familiar jangle of keys in your pocket.

Fumbling in the darkness, your hands tremble slightly in your eagerness to unlock the door and be enveloped in the warmth of your shared space. Finally, the key slips into the lock, the latch clicks open, and you swing the door wide, stepping into the familiar comfort of home.

Dumping your belongings in the foyer, you barely have a moment to catch your breath before a figure materializes in the doorway, silhouetted against the soft glow filtering in from the living room. Miranda stands there, elegant yet slightly fatigued, her presence magnetic and alluring. You're captivated by her, your heart swelling with a mix of longing and excitement. Relief washes over her delicate features as she takes in your safe return.

With a small, knowing smile, her gaze lingers on you, her eyes tracing the contours of your figure, an unspoken admiration evident in her subtle scrutiny. There's a silent exchange of reassurance and familiarity in that glance, a shared language between the two of you that requires no words.

In a tender whisper that carries a hint of relief, she delicately murmurs, "I'm glad you made it home safe," her words an unspoken echo of the worry she had carried during your absence.

You're captivated by her, your heart swelling with a mix of longing, relief, and excitement. Without hesitation, you rush toward her, the world narrowing down to the connection between the two of you. Lips meet in a fervent embrace, a passionate collision of emotions and desires.

In that instant, your hands instinctively seek her, yearning to feel the softness of her skin, the curve of her body, and the warmth of her presence. Each touch conveys the depth of longing etched into your being during your time apart. There's an urgency in the way you pull her closer, an unquenchable desire to cherish every moment of this reunion.

Miranda responds in kind, her touch igniting an equally intense flame of passion. The kisses deepen, an unspoken language of affection and yearning that seems to convey all the words unspoken during your absence. In that intimate embrace, time loses its relevance, encapsulating the sheer devotion and unrestrained desire that bind the two of you together in a moment that feels both fleeting and eternal.

Lips meeting in an impassioned embrace, murmurs of endearment escape in between fervent kisses. "Oh... oh god. I've missed you," you manage to mumble against her lips, the words laced with longing and desire. "Take me to bed."

Her response is immediate, a subtle yet palpable electricity in the air as she separates herself from your lips but remains intimately close, her eyes holding a depth of affection and understanding. With a gentle yet urgent touch, she takes your hand, leading you toward the staircase, each step resonating with the anticipation of being together once more.

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

176 notes · View notes

merylstreepsworld · 5 months

Text

Christmas Traditions

Pairing: Miranda Priestly x Fem!reader

Summary: You visit the Priestly residence for an exciting Christmas eve! Exchanging presents, laughter... and even a kiss.

Word count: 1,400+

The night unfolded like a scene from a sophisticated holiday tale, with the streets of New York City cloaked in a gentle snowfall as you arrived at Miranda's exquisitely adorned townhouse. The festive atmosphere was palpable, emphasized by Miranda herself, resplendent in a red velvet dress, opening the door with her twin daughters, Caroline and Cassidy, flanking her.

Miranda's voice carried a note of playful sarcasm as she greeted you, "Well, look who decided to grace us with their presence. You're not fashionably late for once."

Your laughter echoed through the entrance as you replied, "Had to make an exception for Christmas Eve, Miranda. Your place looks stunning, by the way."

The twins, overflowing with excitement, rushed forward to envelop you in a hug, their infectious enthusiasm setting the tone for the evening.

"Yay, you're here! We've been waiting!" Caroline exclaimed, her joy contagious.

"We made you something special for Christmas!" Cassidy added with a wide grin.

Your smile remained steadfast as you responded, "I can't wait to see it. And Miranda, you look absolutely stunning in that dress."

The red velvet dress clung to Miranda's silhouette with a luxurious embrace, its plush fabric accentuating the graceful lines of her figure. The deep, rich hue seemed to intensify under the dazzling Christmas lights, casting a warm, radiant glow over the room. The dress, a creation of sartorial elegance, boasted a subtle off the shoulder neckline that hinted at allure without relinquishing sophistication.

Miranda acknowledged the compliment with a nod, her characteristic smirk never far from her lips. "I know. Now, come in. We have a splendid evening ahead."

Miranda ushered you into the beautifully decorated townhouse, where the scent of evergreen and cinnamon hung in the air. The ambiance was sophisticated yet cozy, evidence of Miranda's impeccable taste. The Christmas tree sparkled in the corner, adorned with ornaments that reflected Miranda's refined aesthetic.

With chic Christmas decorations adorning the dinner table where a sumptuous feast awaited. The conversation flowed effortlessly as the four of you engaged in lively banter over the delectable Christmas dinner.

For the occasion, you wore a tasteful ensemble—a deep green dress that complemented the festive atmosphere. Miranda, ever the fashion icon, acknowledged your choice with a nod of approval. The contrast in your styles was apparent, but it only seemed to enhance the uniqueness of your friendship.

The evening unfolded gracefully as you all gathered around the dining table for Christmas dinner. The conversation flowed effortlessly, blending the wisdom of Miranda's experiences with the vibrant energy of your youth. The atmosphere was festive, marked by laughter and shared stories.

"Did you know Santa's coming tonight?" Caroline interjected, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Cassidy nodded eagerly, "We're hoping for lots of presents!"

Miranda raised an eyebrow at the mention of Santa, and you couldn't help but laugh. "Well, miracles happen, Miranda."

After the delightful meal, you all gathered around the lavishly decorated Christmas tree. The twins each picked out one present. Once they'd made up their mind, occasionally shaking a few boxes with wonder, they tore into their meticulously wrapped presents, their laughter resonating with pure joy.

"Look what I got!" Caroline squealed.

"It's perfect!" Cassidy exclaimed, holding up her gift.

You exchanged knowing smiles with Miranda, appreciating the shared warmth of the holiday season. The time had come for the adults to unwrap their gifts, and Miranda handed you a beautifully wrapped box.

"Merry Christmas," she said, her tone surprisingly genuine.

As you delicately unwrapped the gift, a delicate necklace was revealed, its design a reflection of Miranda's unparalleled sense of style. "Miranda, this is stunning. Thank you."

Miranda's smirk softened into a subtle smile. "It's the least I could do for my fabulous friend."

In return, you presented her with a tastefully wrapped package. Miranda opened it to reveal a rare edition of her favorite book, and her genuine pleasure was evident.

"How did you...? This is extraordinary," she remarked, her usual composed demeanor momentarily replaced by surprise.

"A little bird told me you've been wanting it for ages," you replied with a knowing smile.

The room brimmed with the enchantment of Christmas as Caroline and Cassidy found themselves facing a rule that threatened to dampen their holiday spirit – only one present each from under the resplendent tree.

Caroline's pout spoke volumes, "But, Mom, it's Christmas!"

Cassidy, her partner in this miniature rebellion, echoed, "Yeah, one is not enough!"

Miranda, a paragon of composed authority, raised an eyebrow, "One each. That's the rule. Besides, it's only Christmas eve."

As the twins engaged in a feeble attempt to sway their mother's decree, you exchanged a knowing glance with Miranda. Rules were rules, but exceptions could be made, especially during the magic of Christmas. Reaching into your bag, you produced two additional gifts, a subtle spark of mischief dancing in your eyes.

With a smile laced with secrecy, you declared, "Perhaps, a minor adjustment to the rules."

Caroline and Cassidy, eyes now wide with anticipation, hastily seized the unexpected offerings. The paper surrendered its secrets, revealing a new sketchpad for Caroline and a set of vibrant paints for Cassidy.

Caroline, her face now aglow with delight, exclaimed, "This is amazing!"

Cassidy, grinning from ear to ear, added, "Thank you!"

You laughed joyously, overcome with a sense of deep love for the two girls. You always enjoyed making them happy and surprising them. "A touch of Christmas magic, just for you two."

In the midst of the unfolding festivities, Miranda, the poised matriarch, observed the scene with a smirking satisfaction, "Exceptional circumstances call for exceptional measures."

The room, once filled with a chorus of eager unwrapping, now had Caroline and Cassidy seated on the floor, absorbed in exploring their newfound treasures. Their joy echoed through the room, blending seamlessly with the warmth that permeated the air.

Amidst the unfolding festivities, Miranda, in her poised elegance, gently reminded the twins, "Don't forget the present you made for our dear friend under the tree."

Caroline and Cassidy, their enthusiasm unyielding, exchanged mischievous glances before executing an agile dash towards the Christmas tree. Returning with a carefully crafted package, they handed it to you with proud smiles, eager for you to unravel the mystery of their creation.

Caroline, exuberant in her announcement, declared, "We made it ourselves!"

Cassidy, nodding in agreement, added, "It's the best one!"

You delicately unwrapped the handmade gift, revealing personalized ornaments, each reflecting the unique touch of the twins' creativity.

Appreciation colored your expression as you remarked, "This is wonderful. Thank you both."

Miranda, her smirk now softened, commented, "They insisted on making something special."

Late into the evening, laughter resonated through the elegantly decorated space, and the room was filled not just with the glow of Christmas lights but with the warmth of shared moments and genuine connection. The twins, now nestled on the floor, continued to revel in the joy of the season, and the memories forged that night would linger, like the echo of distant carols, in the corridors of time.

As the night progressed, you joined forces to put the twins to bed, sharing wishes of sugarplum dreams and whispered secrets. Back downstairs, Miranda walked you to the door, the air tinged with a sense of contentment.

"It's been a splendid evening, hasn't it?" Miranda's voice softened.

You nodded, genuinely grateful. "The best. Thank you for having me, Miranda."

As you reached the door, the subtle detail of mistletoe hanging above caught your attention. The mistletoe, unnoticed until now, dangled above the doorway like a clandestine spectator to the unfolding scene. Miranda's smirk returned as she commented, "Tradition, you know."

"I thought you didn't do traditions," you playfully retorted, a glint of mischief in your eyes.

In response, Miranda leaned in, her fingers delicately cupping your cheek, a gesture unexpected yet remarkably tender. "There's always an exception."

Her lips met yours beneath the mistletoe, the kiss holding a subtle intensity, a mingling of warmth against the winter's chill.

As the kiss lingered for a fleeting moment, the snowy night outside seemed to pause, granting you both a suspended instant in time. Miranda's touch, a gentle caress against your cheek, left an imprint that lingered even after the door closed behind you.

"Merry Christmas, my dear friend," Miranda whispered, her voice carrying a warmth that transcended the season.

Your smile held a lingering echo of the shared moment as you replied, "Merry Christmas, Miranda."

#meryl streep #merylstreep #meryl streep x reader #miranda priestly #the devil wears prada #miranda priestly x reader #christmas fanfic #christmas #fanfic #fanfiction

128 notes · View notes

merylstreepsworld · 5 months

Text

Incorrect Quotes Between You and Miranda Priestly

Miranda: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake.

Y/n: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear.

Miranda: ...

Miranda: You mean ring bearER, right?

Y/n: ...

Miranda: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

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

93 notes · View notes

merylstreepsworld · 5 months

Text

Imagine Miranda tying you up with Christmas lights

Miranda's eyes held a knowing glint as she guided you toward the bed. In a surprising yet strangely sensual move, she took a strand of Christmas lights, the soft glow reflecting in her eyes. With a measured grace, Miranda delicately looped them around your wrists, creating a makeshift yet strangely enchanting restraint.

"You look exquisite," she whispered, her fingers tracing the contours of your face. The Christmas lights added a playful yet intimate element to the encounter, a unique twist to the romantic evening.

As the lights embraced your wrists, the room seemed to hum with an unspoken understanding. With a subtle yet purposeful movement, Miranda guided your hands upward, maintaining the gentle restraint created by the looped lights around your wrists. She expertly secured the lights to the bed posts, creating a whimsical yet strangely alluring tether.

"You've been naughty this year," Miranda teased, her voice a sultry whisper. The lights, now tethered to the bed, created an alluring framework, framing the scene that would unfold.

The lights shimmered, casting a playful glow on the scene. Miranda's eyes held a mixture of desire and admiration as she surveyed her handiwork. The room seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of the shared moment that awaited.

Miranda continued to explore the landscape of desire, her words carrying a subtle tease. "I must say, being on the naughty list never felt this good," she whispered, her lips grazing the curve of your neck.

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

82 notes · View notes

merylstreepsworld · 5 months

Text

Your Muse Pt. 2

Pairing: Donna Sheridan x Fem!reader

Summary: You and Donna decide to continue the day with some fun in the sun. (Included at the end are 2 poems)

Word count: 2,803

You and Donna had just finished up brunch at the café. The two of you sat there, pondering what to do next. Donna suggested the two of you spend the rest of the day at the beach. Her suggestion was met with an eager nod from you. The prospect of unwinding by the shimmering shores of Kalokari was an enticing idea, a perfect continuation of the delightful day you had shared.

With a giddy anticipation, you excused yourself to change into your bathing suit in the café's bathroom. After a quick change, you emerged, feeling the excitement bubbling within as you made your way back to Donna.

"I'm all set," you announced cheerfully, the anticipation evident in your voice.

Donna smiled warmly. "Great! I've got my bathing suit on under these clothes," she said, gesturing to her attire.

The two of you set off towards the beach, the sun casting a golden hue upon the cerulean waters ahead. The sand beneath your feet was warm and inviting, beckoning you to unwind and embrace the tranquility of the seaside.

Upon reaching the beach, you found a cozy spot and set down your belongings, ready to bask in the sun's embrace. However, you decided to stay on the shore for a little while, eager to capture the essence of this moment through your writing.

Sitting perched on a towel, you observed Donna as she gracefully peeled off her outer clothes, revealing the vibrant bathing suit she wore beneath. The sun-kissed hues of the swimsuit complemented the golden tones of the sand, emanating a playful and carefree vibe that mirrored Donna's infectious energy.

She unbuckled her overalls before unbuttoning the buttons on her top with an effortless grace, the fabric billowing in the gentle breeze as she slipped it off her shoulders. The bathing suit revealed hints of cerulean blue interwoven with patterns reminiscent of the ocean's waves, accentuating Donna's confidence and radiance against the backdrop of the beach.

With an unspoken elegance, she shimmied out of her shorts, revealing the matching bottoms of her bathing suit—a perfect complement to the top. The vibrant colors of her attire echoed the allure of the sea, exuding a sense of comfort and ease.

As Donna's figure shimmered under the sunlight, her movements carried a natural grace, a fluidity that seemed at one with the rhythmic sway of the ocean. Her playful demeanor, coupled with the vivid hues of her swimsuit, painted a picture of joy and vibrancy against the serene backdrop of the beach, adding an extra touch of beauty to the picturesque scene unfolding before you.

Seated comfortably, you watched as Donna waded into the waves, her laughter carried by the gentle sea breeze. The scene before you was picturesque—the rhythmic dance of the waves, the sunlight glistening on the water's surface, and Donna's carefree joy as she splashed around in the ocean.

With your notebook and pen in hand, you couldn't resist the urge to capture this idyllic moment. As Donna frolicked in the waves, you found solace in the rhythm of your writing. The tranquility of the beach and the playful serenity of Donna's presence intertwined seamlessly, fueling your creative spirit and etching this serene scene into the pages of your notebook.

Some time later, Donna emerged from the waves, her infectious smile beaming with mischievous intent, "Still sitting here scribbling away, huh?" Donna teased, her tone lighthearted as she reached out to take your hand.

You laughed, feigning protest, "Hey, I'm being productive!"

"Come on, join me! Let's dive into the fun!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with playful enthusiasm. You chuckled, feeling a mix of excitement and hesitation. "Oh, I don't know, Donna! I'm not sure about this!" you teased, though the playful glint in your eyes betrayed your willingness to join in.

Before you knew it, she had grabbed your hand, pulling you playfully towards the ocean. In a mock display of resistance, you tossed your notebook and pen aside, joining in the fun as Donna continued to coax you closer to the water's edge. "No, Donna, wait!" you protested, feigning resistance as she pulled you further into the ocean. The exhilarating rush of the cool water against your skin sent laughter cascading from your lips.

Giggles escaped your lips as you protested in jest, her playful antics irresistibly drawing you towards the inviting waves. As you waded further into the ocean, the water lapping at your chest, you playfully splashed Donna in retaliation for her antics.

A playful water fight ensued, filled with laughter and playful shoves, until the mood shifted into a more physical jest. In the midst of the playful tussle, an unexpected big wave rolled in, catching you off guard and sending you tumbling into the water.

As you emerged from the playful chaos, gasping for air, your instincts kicked in, grasping onto the nearest thing for support—the only thing within reach—Donna. She was laughing, clearly enjoying the friendly shenanigans, and as she pulled you closer, you instinctively wrapped your legs around her waist for support in the water. Coughing slightly, you attempted to wipe the water from your eyes, only to find yourself caught in a moment of closeness that took you by surprise. Donna's laughter was infectious, echoing around you, as she teased you good-naturedly.

"Looks like I've got you now," she quipped, her playful tone punctuated by chuckles.

Summoning the last bit of energy and playfulness, you managed a weak retort, "Oh, shut up," before surprising her with an unexpected response—a kiss that silenced her teasing mid-sentence.

For a moment, time seemed to pause, the ocean's melody the only sound amidst the shimmering water. As your lips met hers in an impulsive yet tender moment, the playfulness dissipated, replaced by a fleeting instance of connection and shared emotions. The brief but intense exchange was a culmination of the playful banter and camaraderie that had defined the day, a spontaneous gesture that spoke volumes in its simplicity.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and slightly taken aback by your own boldness, a shared gaze conveyed more than words ever could. The playful chaos had transformed into an unexpected moment of closeness, leaving you both momentarily stunned, yet silently acknowledging the unspoken understanding that lingered between you in the tranquil embrace of the ocean.

Amidst the playful banter and the surprising kiss, Donna's laughter rang out, a symphony against the backdrop of the lapping waves. Her teasing tone echoed in the air as she playfully teased you for silencing her with a kiss.

"Shushing me with a kiss, huh?" Donna chuckled, her voice laced with amusement.

Not willing to let the moment slip away just yet, you leaned in once more, capturing her lips in another spontaneous kiss. This time, your actions were more confident, more deliberate, fueled by the thrill of the unexpected connection and the desire to express the feelings that had blossomed within you.

As your lips met Donna's again, a soft mumble escaped, your words slightly muffled against her lips, "If you keep teasing me, I'll just keep kissing you."

The words hung in the air, a declaration woven in the playful exchange. The playful banter had turned into an unspoken agreement, a playful challenge that left a tantalizing hint of anticipation lingering between you.

Donna's laughter faded into a breathless silence as your lips parted, both of you now caught in a moment tinged with mutual understanding and a hint of surprise at the sudden boldness that had overtaken you.

For a heartbeat, the air crackled with a mixture of playful tension and a newfound closeness, an unspoken agreement lingering in the salty breeze—a silent promise of further playful banter and perhaps more moments of unexpected connection that lay ahead.

"I don't have any qualms about that," Donna replied with a playful twinkle in her eye, a subtle acknowledgment of the newfound chemistry between you.

The playful banter continued as Donna teased, "Your kisses taste like salt water now, you know."

In response, you leaned in once more, capturing her lips in another kiss, this time more fervent, as if to prove a point. The taste of the ocean mingled in the kiss, a playful retort to her teasing.

As your lips met Donna's in the lingering embrace, a shared sense of exhilaration and playful camaraderie hung between you. The moment was a testament to the unspoken understanding that had bloomed unexpectedly between two kindred spirits.

When the kiss finally parted, both of you were left breathless, caught in a shared moment of anticipation and excitement, the playful teasing evolving into a dance of unspoken desires.

After a lingering kiss that carried a mix of playfulness and appreciation, you playfully remarked to Donna, "That was for teasing me and for paying for brunch!"

Donna's laughter filled the air, a joyful sound that resonated amidst the tranquil ambiance of the beach. Her laughter was infectious, a testament to the lighthearted rapport that had blossomed between you.

"Ah, so that's how it is, huh?" Donna teased back, her tone light and playful as she shook her head in mock disbelief.

As the waves whispered their rhythmic melody, a comfortable silence settled between you, a gentle acknowledgement of the unspoken sentiments that lingered in the air. The shared gaze between you spoke volumes, conveying an unspoken promise of more adventures and playful banter that lay ahead.

The tranquility of the moment was interrupted only by the distant calls of seagulls and the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore—a serene backdrop to the evolving tale of connection and shared moments etched in the sands of Kalokari.

The playful banter between you and Donna continued as you jestingly accused her, "You tried to kill me with that big wave!" Clutching onto Donna, your grip around her neck and waist tightened reflexively as if seeking reassurance, yet also relishing the closeness she offered in the moment.

Donna chuckled in response, teasing back, "Oh, come on now! You weren't paying attention and got knocked down so easily."

Pouting a bit, you leaned in and planted a quick kiss on Donna's cheek, a playful retaliation to her teasing.

"Stop teasing me," you whined playfully, though the sparkle in your eyes betrayed the hint of mischief within you.

Donna's laughter filled the air as she shook her head affectionately, "I'll never stop teasing you, you know that."

Rolling your eyes in mock exasperation, you found yourself enveloped in Donna's touch, her hands caressing your back in a comforting manner, the closeness between you offering a sense of tranquility.

Clasping onto each other, you both remained intertwined in the ocean, the gentle sway of the waves a soothing rhythm as Donna held you, her arms encircling you in a comforting embrace. Your head found a resting place on Donna's shoulder, a gesture of trust and camaraderie that had blossomed within the playful exchange.

For a while, you both simply clung to each other, the serene moment unfolding amidst the lapping waves, a silent communion of shared understanding and a newfound connection that had unexpectedly blossomed on the shores of Kalokari.

As the moment of serene closeness on the beach began to gently disperse, you slowly eased yourself out of Donna's comforting embrace, reluctantly letting go of the connection you had shared in the ocean.

The two of you strolled back to the shore, the sand feeling warm under your feet as you made your way to your belongings. Donna reached into her bag and retrieved a towel, wrapping it around you from behind with a tender care that sent a shiver down your spine. Her face nestled into the crook of your neck as she draped the towel around you, and the sudden closeness made your cheeks flush a deep shade of red. Donna's breath against your skin sent a wave of fluttering sensations through you, leaving you both flustered and comforted at the same time.

Then came the dreaded question that cast a shadow over the tranquil moment. "When do you have to leave the island?" Donna's voice carried a hint of disappointment, and your heart sank at the inquiry.

"Six days," you replied, your tone carrying a tinge of regret. The heaviness of impending departure lingered in the air, casting a bittersweet aura over the otherwise serene beach scene.

Donna shook her head, a sigh escaping her lips as she nestled closer into the crook of your neck, a gesture that conveyed a silent understanding of the limited time left together.

Her hands, gentle yet intimate, roamed your body as she dried you off with the towel, a caress that elicited a swirl of emotions within you. The sensation of her touch, so tender and caring, added to the complexity of the moment—a mix of longing and appreciation for the fleeting connection forged on the sun-drenched shores of Kalokari.

In that intimate closeness, emotions lingered unspoken, the reality of time ticking away overshadowing the tranquil moment. But Donna was determined to not allow thid dampen the moment. Her touch was both gentle and purposeful. With a tenderness that conveyed a depth of understanding, she started to pat and stroke the towel across your shoulders, ensuring each part of your skin felt the comforting touch of the soft fabric.

Her hands moved in a soothing rhythm, tracing along your arms, delicately blotting away the lingering droplets of water. Donna's touch felt caring and intimate, yet respectful of boundaries, as she dried your back with gentle strokes, her movements deliberate and precise. With an almost choreographed grace, she continued her ministrations, paying attention to every detail, her hands navigating the curves of your body in a way that felt both nurturing and familiar. Donna's touch, accompanied by the soft texture of the towel, seemed to erase the remnants of the playful water fight, replacing it with a tender moment of shared intimacy.

She took her time, ensuring no inch of your skin remained damp, her movements unhurried, as if savoring the closeness and the tactile connection between you. The sensation of her touch lingered, a blend of warmth and comfort that wrapped around you like a cocoon.

As Donna worked diligently to dry you off, her care and attention spoke volumes, carrying an unspoken message of companionship and empathy. Each movement of the towel seemed to whisper a tale of shared moments, a silent acknowledgment of the connection forged amidst the playful antics in the ocean.

In that tender exchange, a mix of emotions swirled within you, a bittersweet cocktail of appreciation for Donna's kindness and a pang of regret for the looming departure that threatened to shorten this newfound connection.

Donna's voice, a soft and sensual whisper cut through the air. Her breath hitting the shell of your ear, "Let's make the most of our time then..."

In Donna's Embrace

From behind, she comes with grace,

A towel, soft as an embrace.

Emerging from the ocean's sheen,

She wraps me up in comforting scene.

Her touch, a gentle soothing balm,

Amidst the air, so warm and calm.

The fabric whispers, tender and kind,

As she dries the remnants left behind.

Her hands, a symphony of care,

Tracing my skin with utmost flair.

Each stroke, a tale of understanding,

In this moment, our bond expanding.

With purposeful strokes, she tends,

Blotting droplets that the sea sends.

The closeness lingers in each touch,

Moments shared, which mean so much.

Her motions choreographed, so deft,

Erasing the playful waves that left.

In this drying ritual, a silent art,

A connection born, from the ocean's heart.

In Donna's arms, the towel weaves,

A tale of comfort, my heart believes.

The drying becomes a tender ode,

A bond emerging, in this abode.

Wrapped in her care, I feel whole,

The towel's whisper, a soothing soul.

In Donna's embrace, a moment pure,

A memory cherished, of this shore.

Captivated

Amidst shores kissed by the sun's golden gleam,

A spirit effervescent, an ethereal dream.

Hair kissed by the breeze, eyes as deep as the sea,

An enigma of vibrance, her allure captures me.

Radiant energy in every step she takes,

Beneath the azure skies, a bond slowly awakes.

Youthful exuberance meets seasoned grace,

Drawing me closer, her mystique I embrace.

She lays upon sands, amidst laughter's crest,

Her laughter like music, joy at its behest.

In ocean's embrace, she dances with glee,

A playful spirit, wild and free.

With a gentle touch, she takes my hand,

Guiding me along adventures unplanned.

In her world, age fades, barriers they dissolve,

A dance of spirits, stories untold.

Oh, muse of vivacity, your spirit shines bright,

In your presence, I find my flight.

Through your eyes, a world unfolds,

An unwritten tale that gently molds.

Amidst sands and waves, a connection untold,

In Donna's embrace, a world to behold.

#meryl streep #merylstreep #meryl streep x reader #donna sheridan x reader #mamma mia #donna sheridan

33 notes · View notes

merylstreepsworld · 5 months

Text

Your Muse Pt.1

Pairing: Donna Sheridan x Fem!reader

Summary: You are a writer visiting the quaint island of Kalokari in search of inspiration. As you sit in a quiet café, a vivacious blonde catches your eye.

Word count: 2,399

Authors note: Originally, this was going to be only one part. That was until I just kept writing and writing... so much in fact that it quickly became well over 4,000 words.

As the warm Mediterranean breeze played with the pages of your notebook, you, lost in your own world of prose, sat in a quaint café on the enchanting island of Kalokari. Your pen danced across the paper, fervently trying to capture the elusive essence of creativity that had evaded you for far too long.

Amidst the tranquil surroundings, your gaze shifted inadvertently to a trio of women entering the café. Among them stood a figure that instantly drew your attention—a woman with cascading waves of blonde hair, her piercing blue eyes mirroring the sea's depth. Dressed in overalls that exuded a carefree aura, she seemed to carry herself with an effortless confidence, an enigmatic magnetism that captivated your attention.

"I should focus on my writing," you chided yourself inwardly, attempting to avert your gaze. Yet, the allure of the intriguing woman proved insurmountable. Your fingers fidgeted, absentmindedly tapping the pen against the notebook, while your thoughts strayed towards this enigmatic presence.

"She's probably too mature for me," you mused, casting furtive glances between scribbled lines of verse. "But there's something inexplicably magnetic about her." You found yourself unwittingly weaving the essence of this captivating stranger into a poem—a muse inadvertently etched within your verses.

The trio settled at a nearby table, the blonde woman's companions forming a vivid contrast—one tall and slender, the other short and round, their brown hair providing a stark visual juxtaposition against the blonde's radiance. They conversed animatedly, laughter carrying lightly on the breeze, forming an orchestration of camaraderie and familiarity.

In the midst of crafting lines of admiration within your prose, you grappled with your own emotions, an unexpected whirlwind sparked by the presence of this magnetic figure. "She's older, more experienced, different from me," you reasoned, attempting to rationalize your inexplicable attraction.

Yet, as you sat there, enveloped in your own thoughts, you couldn't help but feel an inexplicable connection, a magnetic pull towards this woman whose aura seemed to beckon, whispering tales of experiences and untold stories.

Lost in this newfound realm of fascination, you grappled with conflicting emotions, battling the urge to approach and the hesitance born from a perceived disparity in age and life experiences. Yet, the tendrils of inspiration had been reignited, fueled by the enigmatic presence of this blonde and her companions, prompting you to embrace the paradoxical emotions surging within you.

As the afternoon sunlight cast elongated shadows over the cobblestone streets, you continued to pen your verses, each line resonating with the essence of a woman who had inadvertently become your muse

As you finished your last line and closed your notebook, a wave of accomplishment mingled with the familiar fluttering of nerves. Tucking the pen into the spine, you packed your belongings into your bag, ready to depart the café. However, in your hastened stride, the notebook slid out, unnoticed, and tumbled to the floor.

Embarrassment surged as you bent to retrieve it, only to find a hand already extending towards you. With a jolt, you lifted your gaze to meet the face of the woman you had been surreptitiously admiring. Her warm smile seemed to ease the embarrassment, but it couldn't prevent the rapid thumping of your heart as she handed you the notebook.

"Thank you," you managed to murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, feeling completely mesmerized by her close proximity.

"Donna Sheridan," she introduced herself with a chuckle, extending the notebook towards you.

Your stunned state lingered, rendering you momentarily speechless. You simply stared, captivated by the effervescent aura that seemed to emanate from her.

Seeing your reaction, Donna laughed softly. "Seems like I've caught you off guard there," she remarked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Shaking yourself out of the daze, you finally accepted the notebook with a grateful nod, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. Thank you. I- I'm [Your Name]" you stammered, trying to gather your thoughts.

Donna, undeterred by your flustered state, struck up a conversation, her voice a melodic cadence amidst the café's ambient sounds. "[Your Name], are you a writer?" she inquired, a genuine curiosity lighting up her expression. But all you could focus on was how her name just rolled off her tongue so effortlessly. "Was she trying to make me fall in love with her?" You couldn't help but wonder to yourself.

You nodded in affirmation, finding solace in the familiar territory of discussing your passion. "Yes, I am. I came to Kalokari hoping to find some inspiration," you confessed, your gaze shifting between Donna and her two friends who observed the interaction with knowing smirks. Donna's friends exchanged amused glances, their playful expressions evident to you. Sensing your growing unease, you attempted to excuse yourself. "I don't want to hold you up. Thank you again," you hastily said, attempting to bid goodbye.

However, Donna, sensing your unease, intervened graciously. "Oh, please, don't rush off. I would love to chat more," she insisted, extending an invitation. "I don't have a phone, but here's where I live." She jotted down her address on a piece of paper and offered it to you.

A mix of disbelief and elation coursed through you as you accepted the slip of paper, feeling as if you were floating on air. "Thank you, Donna. I'll, uh, I'll definitely be in touch," you managed to say, your voice betraying your excitement.

Leaving the café, every step felt lighter, as if the weight of the world had lifted from your shoulders.

~♡~♡~♡~

The night enveloped you with its tranquil embrace as you returned to the cozy rented house on the island. The encounter with Donna had left an indelible mark on your thoughts, stirring a whirlwind of conflicting emotions that echoed through the confines of your mind.

Debating the pros and cons, your inner dialogue was relentless. "How soon is too soon? Should I wait a day or two before going to see her?" Doubt crept in, weaving a web of uncertainties as you wrestled with the fear of appearing overly eager or desperate.

But as you paced the room, the allure of spending time with Donna grew stronger, tugging at your heartstrings with an undeniable yearning. The ephemeral nature of your time on this mesmerizing island fueled the nagging feeling that every moment counted, urging you to seize the opportunity without delay.

"I don't want to come off as too forward, but what if she's expecting me? What if she's waiting?" Your thoughts raced, mirroring the turmoil within your heart. The desire to see her again battled against the fear of moving too swiftly, leaving you ensnared in an internal tug-of-war.

In a moment of clarity, you decided. Tomorrow, you would go to the address Donna had given. The decision brought a mix of nervous excitement and anticipation, quelling the turmoil within, albeit temporarily.

Setting your resolve, you meticulously laid out the outfit for the next day—a v-neck sundress that accentuated your best features, carefully chosen shoes, and the perfect accessories to complement the ensemble. Each selection was a conscious choice, a blend of confidence and elegance that reflected the internal struggle you were facing.

Slipping under the covers, you tried to quiet the buzzing thoughts, coaxing your mind into a state of tranquility for a night of much-needed rest. The anticipation for the next day, coupled with the inexplicable connection you felt towards Donna, made sleep an elusive companion, yet you nestled into the bed, hoping that a few hours of rest would prepare you for the momentous day ahead.

As the morning sun tiptoed over the horizon, casting a golden glow upon the island of Kalokari, you awoke with a flutter of anticipation dancing in your chest. The decision to see Donna today propelled you into motion, drawing you towards the imminent encounter that lay ahead.

Before departing, you stole a moment to revisit the pages of your notebook, the sanctuary where thoughts and emotions converged in ink. Flipping through, your gaze fell upon the poem that had sprung forth from the depths of your admiration for Donna:

Amidst the whispers of the sea's soft sighs,

A figure graced by Grecian skies,

With eyes that mirror ocean's deep,

And golden hair in waves that sweep.

She moves amidst the sunlight's dance,

A radiant presence, a fleeting glance,

Her laughter weaves a melody bright,

Amidst companions, their joy takes flight.

In harmony, their stories blend,

Three souls, companions till the end,

Yet in her presence, something stirs,

An enigma that my soul prefers.

Experience meets youth's eager hand,

A pull that I can't quite understand,

In verses spun, a muse takes form,

Beneath this island's sun, so warm.

She's the essence of a tale untold,

A presence that my thoughts enfold,

Inscribing lines in praise, unknown,

A muse's essence in verses sown.

Satisfied with the poetic homage, you carefully packed the notebook and pen into your bag, alongside a swimsuit—a hopeful anticipation of leisure amid the serenity of the island after your visit.

Setting out, the address Donna had given led you to a seemingly weathered hotel, its rustic charm contrasting the picturesque beauty of the island. Confusion clouded your thoughts momentarily, questioning Donna's choice of rendezvous. However, a glance through the courtyard revealed her, strolling through the quaint villa's pathways.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight, prompting you to call out to her. Donna turned, her eyes meeting yours with a warm, welcoming smile that eased your uncertainty. As she sauntered towards you, your pace quickened, the distance between you diminishing with each step.

"Donna!" you called out, a mix of relief and excitement evident in your voice.

"Hello there," she replied with a grin, meeting you halfway. Her demeanor was serene, exuding a magnetic charm that enveloped you like a comforting embrace.

"Thank you for coming," Donna said, her voice carrying the mellifluous tones of sincerity.

"It's... it's my pleasure. I couldn't resist," you confessed, a hint of nervousness threading through your words.

There was an effortless flow to your interaction, as if time had taken a pause to accommodate this moment of connection between two kindred spirits. Each sentence exchanged was a brushstroke on the canvas of the day, painting a portrait of a chance encounter that felt destined.

Donna's suggestion of taking a leisurely walk through town was met with an eager agreement from you. The quaint streets of Kalokari offered a picturesque backdrop as the two of you strolled, engaged in animated conversation that flowed effortlessly.

With each step, the bond between you and Donna seemed to deepen, the candid discussions weaving a tapestry of shared interests, dreams, and experiences. Her anecdotes painted vivid pictures of her life, while your stories added hues of your own aspirations and adventures.

The vibrant town unfolded before you, a symphony of colors and sounds—locals engaging in daily routines, the aroma of freshly baked pastries wafting from a nearby bakery, the rhythmic ebb and flow of the bustling streets.

As you traversed through the labyrinthine paths, Donna shared tales of the island's history and its hidden gems, infusing each moment with a sense of enchantment. The hours slipped by, embraced in a delightful blend of laughter, shared secrets, and the easy camaraderie that had blossomed between you.

Eventually, the winding streets led you back to the very café where your paths had crossed yesterday. The familiar setting invoked a sense of nostalgia, a testament to the serendipitous encounter that had sparked this newfound connection.

"Donna, it's surreal being back here after yesterday," you remarked, a fond smile gracing your lips.

She nodded in agreement, her eyes glinting with a mixture of reminiscence and contentment. "Indeed. Sometimes, life has a way of weaving beautiful moments in unexpected places," Donna mused, her gaze lingering on the café's charming exterior.

Entering the cozy establishment, a sense of deja vu washed over you. The ambience carried traces of yesterday's encounter, yet today held a different hue—a deeper connection, a more profound understanding between you and Donna.

Seated at a familiar table, the air hummed with the continuation of your conversation, seamlessly picking up from where it had left off. Amidst sips of coffee and shared smiles, the café's ambiance cocooned you in a bubble of intimacy, fostering an unspoken understanding between kindred spirits.

Time seemed to lose its hold as the afternoon waned, the conversation flowing as naturally as the gentle waves lapping at the shore.

"So, tell me more about yourself," Donna began, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

"Well," you started, a smile playing on your lips. "I'm a writer, currently working on a romance novel. It's been a journey trying to find the right inspiration, and being here on this island has definitely helped."

"A romance novel, how wonderful!" Donna exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious. "I've always admired writers. It takes such creativity and dedication to craft a story."

"It's a passion of mine," you admitted, feeling a surge of warmth at her encouragement.

Donna leaned in, her expression reflective. "You know, I have a daughter named Sophie. She's a bit younger than you. She's always had a penchant for storytelling too. Maybe it runs in the family," she chuckled.

"That's amazing," you replied, intrigued. "I'd love to hear more about Sophie."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a comfortable exchange that meandered through stories, aspirations, and shared experiences. You found yourself delving into your writing process, sharing snippets of your novel's plot, while Donna recounted tales of her own adventures and cherished memories.

As the plates arrived, laden with a delicious spread of brunch delights, Donna insisted on paying for the meal, despite your earnest protests.

"Donna, I really can't let you pay for this," you insisted, your tone reflecting genuine gratitude.

She waved off your protests with a warm smile. "Nonsense, my dear. It's my treat today."

Feeling a twinge of guilt, you vowed to repay her kindness. "I'll definitely pay you back for this," you promised, reaching for your purse.

"Don't worry about it," Donna reassured you, dismissing the offer with a casual wave of her hand. "Consider it a gesture of friendship."

The exchange carried on, a gentle tug-of-war of generosity and gratefulness.

You and Donna continued talking, enjoying each others company a great deal. Once brunch was done, the plates were clear, and the bill was paid... all that was left was to figure out what to do for the rest of the day.

#meryl streep #merylstreep #meryl streep x reader #donna sheridan #donna sheridan x reader #mamma mia

39 notes · View notes

merylstreepsworld · 6 months

Text

Thanksgiving Preparations

Pairing: Miranda Priestly x Fem! Reader

Summary: You are Miranda's wife, and it's your first Thanksgiving as a married couple. As the two of you navigate, the chaos of holiday preparations with Miranda's twin daughters, laughter, love, and playful banter ensue. Showcasing the beauty of unexpected connections and the joy found in the simplest moments.

Word count: 1,496

Authors Note: Turns out... I'm a sucker for holiday romances. I started out writing Christmas oneshots and imagines... but as I went to post one, I quickly realized it's too early for that. So, to fill my nagging itch for posting a holiday story... I decidedly set my mind on writing for Thanksgiving! So enough of my blabbing, I hope you enjoy! Happy reading! ♡

You stand side by side with Miranda Priestly in the spacious kitchen of your shared townhouse, the warm aroma of Thanksgiving filling the air. The gentle hum of laughter echoes as you and Miranda prepare a feast for the special day. Miranda, elegant as always, expertly handles the turkey while you focus on the side dishes.

As the two of you work in tandem, Miranda glances at you with a soft smile. "You know, darling, I never thought I'd find such joy in preparing a meal. Especially with you."

The twins, Caroline and Cassidy, burst into the kitchen, their excitement palpable. "Mom! Mama! Can we help?" they chorus, eyes sparkling.

You look at Miranda, who nods with a bemused smile. "Of course, my darlings. Your mama and I could use some skilled assistants."

The mention of "mama" and "mom" is a sweet reminder of the unique family dynamic you've all created. The girls, and now Miranda, referring to you as "mama," have seamlessly woven you into their lives. It's a title that carries love and acceptance, surpassing any conventional labels.

Caroline, always the more adventurous of the two, eagerly grabs a mixing bowl. "I call dibs on making mashed potatoes!"

Cassidy, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, reaches for the cranberries. "And I'll handle these. Watch out, world, Cassidy Priestly is a cranberry master!"

You share a knowing look with Miranda, appreciating the liveliness the twins bring to the kitchen. The banter flows seamlessly, filled with laughter and playful teasing. Miranda, usually composed, even allows herself to be the target of a well-placed joke.

"Mom, remember that time you tried to make stuffing and forgot the stuffing part?" Cassidy grins, stirring the cranberries.

Miranda raises an eyebrow, a rare amused expression on her face. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Caroline chimes in, "Oh, come on, Mom. The infamous 'bread casserole' incident? Classic."

You join the teasing, "Well, Miranda, I'm just glad you have me to save you from any future culinary mishaps."

Miranda smirks, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Indeed, I am truly fortunate."

Seeing the twins eager to help, you pause the bustling kitchen activity. "Alright, my little chefs, let's make sure we don't ruin those lovely outfits of yours." With a gentle smile, you reach for two aprons, each adorned with playful patterns.

Caroline and Cassidy giggle as you slip the aprons over their heads. "Now, my culinary wonders, you're officially ready for action."

The girls exchange excited glances, apron strings trailing behind them like little tails. They return to their tasks with renewed enthusiasm, focused on creating their culinary masterpieces.

Turning your attention to Miranda, you approach her with an apron in hand. "Even the queen of fashion needs a touch of practicality in the kitchen," you jest, a playful glint in your eyes.

As you position the apron over Miranda's head, she turns to face you, an eyebrow raised in amusement. Before she can say anything, you lean in, capturing her lips in a soft and tender kiss. The warmth of the moment lingers as you break the kiss, both of you sharing a knowing smile.

Miranda smirks, "I wasn't aware apron application involved such a delightful distraction."

You playfully respond, "Consider it my secret technique. Now, let me just tie this securely." Your hands deftly work to fasten the apron strings, the closeness between you and Miranda adding an extra layer of intimacy to the festive atmosphere.

With the apron securely tied, you give Miranda a gentle pat on the back. "There you go, ready to conquer the culinary world."

Miranda smirks again, a rare twinkle of playfulness in her eyes. "With you by my side, I believe I can handle anything, even in the kitchen."

With the heavenly aroma of the Thanksgiving feast now wafting from the oven, the twins, Caroline and Cassidy, abandon their kitchen duties with a burst of giggles. Aprons discarded on the floor like little breadcrumbs, they scamper off to enjoy their playtime.

Seizing the opportunity for a moment of tranquility, you and Miranda find yourselves alone in the kitchen, still clad in aprons. The air is filled with a quiet anticipation as the oven does its work.

Miranda turns to you, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Alone at last."

You share a knowing glance, and with a gentle touch, Miranda pulls you closer. The warmth of the aprons contrasts with the cool grace of the kitchen surroundings as you share a tender kiss.

As you hold each other, Miranda murmurs, "I am thankful for moments like these, away from the chaos, just you and me."

You reciprocate, "I feel the same, Miranda. Grateful for the life we're building together, especially moments like this."

The quietude of the kitchen allows for whispered confessions, and you take turns expressing your gratitude. Miranda's eyes soften as she admits, "I never thought I'd have a family like this. Your love has brought something extraordinary into my life."

You respond with heartfelt sincerity, "And I'm thankful for the laughter, the warmth, and the love we share. It's more than I could have ever dreamed."

The sound of muffled laughter from the twins playing in the next room adds a joyful background melody to your intimate moment. Miranda's fingers trace circles on the fabric of your apron as she leans in to whisper, "They truly adore you, you know. It's evident in every 'mama' they say."

You smile, the warmth of her words settling in your heart. "And I adore them. I never knew family could feel like this."

Miranda tilts her head, her eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and affection. "Nor did I. You've brought a kind of love into our lives that I didn't think possible."

As the timer on the oven ticks away, the two of you linger in the kitchen, enjoying the rare solitude. The scent of the roasting turkey and the simmering side dishes becomes a backdrop to your whispered conversation.

"I'm thankful for you, Miranda, for the unexpected joy you've given me," you confess, your voice carrying the weight of sincere appreciation.

Miranda's gaze softens, and she responds, "And I, in turn, am thankful for your unwavering support, for the love that has made my world richer than I could have imagined."

The twins' laughter grows louder, a testament to the happiness that fills the home you've created together. Miranda places a gentle kiss on your forehead, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that transcends titles and roles.

As the oven continues to work its magic, you and Miranda stand in the kitchen, wrapped in each other's arms and aprons, grateful for the love that has blended your lives into a beautiful tapestry of shared moments and genuine affection.

As you make a move to join the twins, Miranda surprises you by smoothly backing you against the counter, a playful glint in her eyes. "Leaving so soon?" she quips, her tone filled with mock disappointment.

You chuckle, unable to resist her charm. "Well, someone has to supervise the post-cooking activities. Can't let the kitchen turn into a battlefield."

Miranda smirks, her fingers tracing light patterns on the countertop. "Supervision is overrated, darling. I much prefer a bit of chaos."

You play along, raising an eyebrow. "And here I thought you thrived on control. Are you admitting to a love for chaos?"

Her lips curve into a sly smile. "Only when it involves you, my dear."

You laugh, teasingly responding, "Smooth as always, Miranda. I should have known you'd have a plan to keep me right where you want me."

Miranda leans in, her breath warm against your ear. "Oh, you have no idea how much I enjoy having you right where I want you."

The banter between you takes on a loving and playful rhythm, each remark laced with affection. As Miranda continues to playfully corner you against the counter, you can't help but marvel at the unexpected and delightful turns your day has taken.

"So, do you have any more smooth moves up your sleeve, or is this the grand finale?" you quip, your tone filled with a playful challenge.

Miranda smirks, leaning back slightly. "Darling, with you, every moment is a grand finale."

Your laughter fills the kitchen, blending with the sounds of the twins' joyous play in the background. The playful banter between you and Miranda weaves a thread of intimacy that adds a layer of sweetness to the Thanksgiving celebration. As the banter continues, you realize that in this unscripted dance of words and affections, you've found a home within the heart of your uniquely loving family.

As the playful banter subsides, you find comfort in the warmth of each other's presence. The kitchen, once a hub of activity, now holds the quiet promise of shared moments and the enduring bond you've created. Hand in hand, you leave the playful banter behind, ready to join the twins and savor the Thanksgiving feast that awaits.

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

106 notes · View notes