#DWP x reader
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Anonymous: Reader is in love with Miranda Priestly, and hasn't told her yet although the entirety of Runway has guessed. How would Miranda react if reader and her are stuck in an elevator together and reader ends up fainting in her arms?
I love it! I was inspired by the line Miranda says to Andy about smacking her little head on the pavement lol. Let’s get into it!
Your feelings for Miranda Priestly seem to be an open secret among the Runway staff. You… Don’t have a very good poker face. While Emily frantically scurrying behind Miranda as she rattles off daily tasks to the redhead has become a long-running joke in the office… You kind of just stare shamelessly at the Editor-in-Chief’s bottom whenever you follow her. People often quirk knowing eyebrows at their co-workers as they witness your apparent obsession with Miranda’s backside.
“Guess we know for sure that Y/N’s team ass,” An intern says to a group of her peers one morning, cracking them all up after you and Miranda walk by (And the editor is no longer within hearing distance).
It’s also not hard to pick up on the way you act like a total idiot around Miranda and trip over your words whenever she asks you a question. It’s a wonder she hasn’t gotten fed up with you and canned you yet.
Emily and Nigel just love to tease you too. “So, when are you planning to propose, Y/N? I’d like a heads up if you expect me to do a decent wedding spread for next month’s issue,” Nigel smirks as he leans against your desk.
You tilt your head in confusion at him as you try to work. “Uh… Propose?” You ask.
“Of course, Y/N. Don’t tell me you haven’t planned on asking Miranda to marry you,” He grins.
Your cheeks burn harshly at this. “Wh-what?!” You splutter.
Emily can’t help but join in. “Give them time, Nigel. They’ll have to fish out the ring from a box of cereal first,” She giggles.
The two laugh their asses off at this.
You huff and try to just get back to work. It’s not your fault that Miranda’s a literal goddess. How are you expected to not have a gay panic attack every second of the day when Miranda’s sitting no more than ten feet from your desk?
Today has been busy as hell. Well, more so than usual, at least. You’re currently on your way to pick up some crucial documents for Miranda when you suddenly find yourself tripping and colliding with the ground. Your face smashes harshly into the pavement and onlookers gasp at the severity of your fall. You black out for a second or two and feel yourself being pulled to your feet by a few people trying to help.
“You okay, kid? Hell of a fall…” One guy asks.
You shake your head to clear the stars from your vision before answering. “Honestly? Not really. That fucking… Sucked,” You manage to blurt out, making those around you chuckle sympathetically.
“I think you’d better get this checked out. Head injuries are no joke,” A woman standing beside you pipes up.
You feel a dull thud in your head, but the urgency of your tasks keeps you from agreeing. You turn and smile at her. “Wish I could, but I have to get back to work. Thanks for the help, though, everybody,” You tell the kind people who stopped to help you.
The little crowd that has gathered around you erupts in concerned murmurs, but they don’t know Miranda Priestly. Being late with Miranda’s paperwork is a much bigger threat to your health than a bump on the head.
As you navigate through the day, the dizziness and lightheadedness persist, making it challenging to concentrate. You also find yourself having to stay late with Miranda, assisting her with tasks long after everyone else has left the office. Just when you think for certain that your head is about to crack in two, Miranda miraculously decides that she is done for the night.
“That’s all, Y/N,” She says simply and waits for you to grab her coat and belongings for her.
You’re so distracted by your headache that you didn’t even hear her speak.
After you have made no attempt to move, Miranda’s head whips to you immediately. “Y/N. We’re leaving,” She snaps irritably. She hates repeating herself.
Your eyes widen and you hurriedly rush around to get her things and put her coat on her. You faithfully follow her to the elevator and she, surprisingly, allows you to get in with her instead of making you take another one.
The confined space of the elevator car amplifies the swirling sensations in your head. You bring a weary hand up to rub your eyes, trying to make yourself feel more alert.
Miranda looks over at you with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve seemed rather off today, Y/N. Is something bothering you?”
You attempt to brush off her question. “I’m fine… Just… A head… Ache,” You mumble. Your voice is slurred and your eyes seem so blank.
Miranda’s eyebrows shoot up at this. She’s never seen you look like this. It alarms her greatly. You don’t sound well at all. Her piercing eyes study you intently. “I think you need to get some rest, Y/N. Maybe consider taking tomorrow off?” She suggests, her fondness for you overtaking her need to put up a tough front. She likes you… A lot. More than she would like to admit.
“I’m good,” You try to to assure her quietly. You’re too out of it to even process the unbelievable offer Miranda just made you. A fucking day off? Unheard of.
Miranda sighs as she looks at the state you’re in. She feels really guilty that she worked you so hard today. She should have let you go home ages ago. She just… Likes having you around. Even if you two aren’t directly interacting. You bring her a great sense of peace and calm. Truthfully, she didn’t even need you here tonight. She was just being selfish and wanted to keep you all to herself without other people barging in and… Oh, wait. That… Kind of sounds like a… Crush, doesn’t it? Is that why she enjoys your company so much? Miranda’s cheeks flame at this.
But, before Miranda can even begin to freak out about her silent revelation, the elevator jolts suddenly and you stumble, feeling weaker than before.
Miranda tries to steady you by gripping your arm, worry etching her usually composed features. “Are you sure you’re alright, Y/N?”
But before you can respond, a wave of dizziness overtakes you and the world around you blurs. You feel yourself swaying, and the next thing you know, you’re enveloped in Miranda’s arms as unconsciousness claims you.
… Unfortunately, Miranda is a very petite woman and you… Kind of just end up flopping on top of her.
If only Emily and Nigel could see you now. Falling for the boss…
Note: This was so fun to write.
Masterlist
#miranda priestly#the devil wears prada#dwp#miranda priestly x reader#devil wears prada#emily charlton#nigel kipling#meryl streep#emily blunt#stanley tucci#miranda priestly x y/n#y/n is stupid
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Miranda Priestly and f Reader. Reader gets in between an altercation between Miranda and Stephen. She later tells Miranda "I'll never let anyone talk to you like that again"
𝙰 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗
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(Fem!Reader x Miranda Priestly) (Pining) (TW: Abusive language)
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“Oh give me a break! You don’t have to make up excuses to try and salvage my ego, Miranda!”
The minute you walked in, you knew something was wrong.
The townhouse air in the evening was usually still and quiet, but the stomping footsteps on the second floor provided a tension that made you pause in the foyer. Stephen was home, you realized. His weird manly cologne filled your lungs, nearly bringing tears to your eyes with how strong it was. Almost a year as Miranda’s assistant, spending time around her husband at least once or twice, and you still couldn’t get used to his smell. Probably because every little thing about Stephen was either utterly boring or terribly annoying. Emily said it was both, but she only expressed that when he called so frequently that Miranda told her to instantly send them to voicemail. ‘If he has something important to say, he’ll leave a message’ but every time he did, it was just a stream of complaints.
If you were in his shoes, something you didn’t think about often because why would you, then you knew you wouldn’t take her attention for granted. She gave it when she could and a loving partner would understand that, and such understanding would lead to a lack of tension, and a lack of tension would result in more of her recognition. Or that’s what you thought. Again- not that you thought about it frequently of course - cuz that would just be silly and unrealistic and strange because she was your boss and she was the most emotionally unavailable woman you knew and even though she loved her daughters, her love for her partners was different and-
“I can’t go one day without them shooting looks at me- like- like I’m some dog! Probably wondering where my keeper is!” His voice echoed upon every floor, making you wince as you slid the Book into its assigned place.
Evidently, they hadn’t heard you come in. They should have been expecting you; at least Miranda should have, but it was easy to lose track of time during the winter months. It seemed to move so quickly, with a prime example being that it was 11:20 on the dot once you got there. Miranda had to attend a small dinner party at 9, so she eventually returned home at 10:30. Not the worst timing for a Friday night, but if Stephen had been ranting from the very moment she stepped in, well then you had no doubt she was tired. Too tired to argue perhaps as you barely heard her murmured response.
“We can discuss this in the morning. It’s late.” She sounded worn. It made your heart ache as you looked up at the ceiling, momentarily debating if you should stay or leave.
“Oh yeah? Just so you can escape back into your job to try and distract yourself from the real issues? Stop acting like a child, Miranda. We’ll talk about this now like adults.” The way Stephen ‘put his foot down’ was nothing in comparison to Miranda’s method. He was too loud about it - too demanding. It wasn’t very effective, even though it did make up your mind for you.
Staying was risky, of course. You could get caught, of course. You could get fired, of course. But honestly? You didn’t trust your boss’s husband. You didn’t trust his demeanor or his drinking or any other little thing about him. And although you didn’t think he would really hurt her, the worry that planted itself in the back of your brain grew swiftly; festering like a disease as you inched yourself toward the stairs and placed your hand on the cold bannister. Worrying for your boss was not your place, but above that, worrying for Miranda Priestly was not your right. You weren’t hers and she wasn’t yours - so there was really no need to stick around. She was entirely capable of taking care of herself.
…And yet?
And yet, something in your gut told you to stay. It was quiet but present - and it murmured softly, convincing you that the second you stepped out of the door and got into the car with Roy and drove off into the night, something would happen. Something bad. Something that you could have avoided if only you were there.
So no, you couldn’t leave. Not yet. Even though Miranda was most likely prepared to tear Stephen a new one.
“I am acting like a child? Calling your wife at 9:45 PM to complain about her absence at a dinner you didn’t confirm is far more childish than me doing my job. What did you expect me to do when you called? Run out of an important business dinner to dash over and wipe your tears before drowning my embarrassment in an overpriced ‘welcome bread basket’? Don’t be absurd, Stephen. You knew I was busy.” And she proved you right - speaking in a low edgy hiss that you suspected was only reserved for her husband. Interestingly enough though, even alone in her house, arguing with this person or the other, Miranda never raised her voice.
No one else thought it was noteworthy enough to mention in quiet conversation, but you were often tempted to bring it up to Nigel. You figured it was because of her childhood - whatever that had been like - and that she vowed to keep her vocal cords safe. It was a small little detail, but when one conversed with Miranda, sometimes it seemed like the only thing to focus on. Her words are always important, yes, but watching her lips move… and seeing the way her teeth formed each syllable… well it was mesmerizing in a way you’d never be able to properly explain. And Stephen, who was pacing the floor above you, was far too daft to understand that.
“What, so if I want to have dinner with my wife, I have to confirm through her assistant? You barely pick up, Miranda!” The sudden growl in his voice had you placing one foot on the stair next to you.
‘This is just a precautionary measure’ you told yourself, knowing that was far from the truth.
“And you pick up too often.” Her quip was breathy and sharp - a clear end to the conversation as you heard her soft footsteps trailing off into another room.
“What does that even mean?! I’m trying to be a good husband, but you are ruining my reputatio-”
“Your reputation?” The venom in Miranda’s voice silenced her husband immediately. “Your reputation…,” you pictured her shaking her head before letting out a little mocking laugh; “…I have no effect on how much you succeed in your career. If you can’t separate work and life, that’s not my problem.”
Their voices were drifting away, lost to the floorplan of their home as you slowly skirted your way up the stairs. It seemed that Miranda had taken your common sense with her when she walked off, leaving Stephen (and you) to follow like lost puppies. Although, she still didn’t know you were there. And you still weren’t going to leave - not until he stopped raising his voice and waking the entire neighborhood.
“God you know- you always treat me like shit, Miranda.” You winced, knowing very well how much she hated cursing. “I am your HUSBAND. You should be speaking to me with respect - not like I’m another worthless magazine you can get rid of. I’ve given you EVERYTHING I have and what have you given me? A few hours of your time? Nothing? Just enlighten me, because I’m really at a loss right now!”
There was a bang then. It was strong and hard and it sounded like he hit something- maybe a side table or a wall- but it didn’t matter to you. He had hit something and if he could hit something- an inanimate object- he could hit his wife and if he hit his wife, he could hurt her and you couldn’t just stand there- you couldn’t just listen to his slander when his wife was giving him everything!; when she was providing and taking care of the children and doing her job all at the same time. You gulped, noticed that you had gravitated up to the second floor, and decided in a split second that if Miranda had anything to say, you’d simply come up with an excuse.
Then, as you listened for where they had gone, you heard hurried footsteps coming back toward the stairs.
“Don’t ignore me, Miranda! Stop hiding behind your job and just admit that you don’t give a fuck about us! I try so hard every day and every night and all you can do is- is- is whore yourself out to those fucking businessmen!”
The gasp that bubbled up in your throat escaped without hesitation. You had never heard anyone talk about Miranda like that - and especially not to her face. If anyone else had spoken so wickedly, you were almost certain that they’d be blacklisted from every bloody establishment in New York City, whether it had to do with fashion or not. But Stephen… well you knew that she had her own reputation to protect - and an escaping husband was not ideal.
But still…
Still…
She didn’t deserve that. And the injustice that had sparked earlier welled up like water boiling over the lip of a full pot. How dare he? How dare he speak to her like that? Your hands balled into fists at your sides; painted nails digging into the skin of your palms.
“Still nothing to say? Huh?!”
A split second later, followed by the sound of Stephen’s yelling, Miranda walked around the corner.
And there your eyes met.
She looked tired at that moment… and small… and utterly incensed at the idea of you being there and witnessing that. The shock played out on her face in the span of a millisecond; with a wide blue gaze and perfect lips parted and sculpted eyebrows raised onto her forehead - which was half covered by a swooping waterfall of messy white hair. It was beyond clear that she was ready for bed and that Stephen was just prolonging her suffering, but you sent a silent prayer to the gods asking to keep your job just before her husband showed up. His hands were on his hips, his face was screwed up into a tired and angry frown, and upon seeing you- he let out a loud scoff.
“Are you kidding me?!” His yell was right in Miranda’s ear but she didn’t seem to care. She didn’t even flinch.
Instead, she was staring right at you. At you. With some sort of fury- some sort of strange deep emotion- swirling around in pearlescent eyes. You felt your knees grow weak but held your ground. If she was going to yell, let her yell. If she was going to coldly dismiss you, let her coldly dismiss you. But at the end of the day, the longer you stared, the more you knew that she knew. That she understood. In the strange telekinetic way that most women shared - the concern that compelled you to stay was reflected in her gaze. And there, in the lull of irritation and tension, was a conversation that only the two of you shared.
It was spoken softly, slowly, and through your eyes alone.
‘I stayed because I was scared for you.’
‘I know.’
‘Are you mad at me?’
‘I don’t know. This wasn’t your place.’
‘I understand. I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.’
‘I can handle myself.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘…I know.’
“Did you plan this? Is that why she’s here?! What- did- did you call her? To witness us fight? See I knew you were fucking crazy! From day one I told myself ‘Stephen don’t get involved with her’ and now look where I am!”
Your silent conversation was snapped in half as he ranted; all while shoving past Miranda to walk further into the hall and throw his hands up in the air like a kid. You felt your body jolt at the sight of her being pushed, but like the impenetrable wall she could be, your boss stood her ground and allowed her husband to brush past her shoulder. As if there wasn’t force in the way he walked. As if you weren’t this close to throwing a punch.
And Miranda could see it in you. She could see the irritation- the sense of injustice and everything that came with it- but she also knew you wouldn’t do anything. You were too kind. Too understanding.
Well… unless someone like Stephen said what he said next.
“You know what? No. I’m done. You listen to me right now,” and then he rounded on your boss, walking right up into her space so quickly that you couldn’t help but push yourself to get closer. And from where you stood then, you saw the way he pushed his finger into her chest and seethed with an unnecessary amount of rage.
“You listen and you learn. I have had it up to here with your bullshit. The cold shoulder, the missed dinners, the terrible schedules, the fact that you don’t even care if the twins like me or not - I’m sick of it. You treat me like an accessory. Another bag for the queen of fashion to throw out but guess what. Guess what, Miranda! I don’t care anymore. We’re separating - and you’re gonna end up like all of the other sad washed up celebrities: Pathetic and- and- weak and alone. Because no one- no one- could possibly love you like this,” and you watched with disgust as he shook his head and let out a cruel laugh. “No one could possibly look at you, with your stuck-up bitchy behavior, and see something worth loving. And-”
Before he could continue, you heard yourself speaking.
“You are absolutely pathetic.”
Two sets of eyes turned on you - one of them confused and the other severe, silently telling you to just shut your mouth. Normally, you would. Normally, you’d listen to your boss and obey her commands- silent or not- because you appreciated her authority and you were halfway in love with her. But it was for that last reason, the very reason why your ribcage felt like a zoo butterfly exhibit, that you decided not to listen. Sure, Miranda would hear your angry love-sick quips, but that didn’t matter. You were going to spill your heart out onto the floor, take a page out of your boss’s book…
…and kick Stephen’s ego into the dust.
“What did you just say?” His eyes were disbelieving as he turned to you; and though a twinge of fear dug at your heart, you pushed on.
“You heard me. You’re pathetic. Pathetic and weak and honestly? Really really embarrassing. It’s no wonder she doesn’t wanna spend time with you. Aside from being the busiest person on Earth and providing you with a roof over your head, she has kids and a job to maintain. But it’s fine- it’s fine!, because you get to complain and she doesn’t. Because you think she owes you everything, but she doesn’t. And she never did. And she never will.” You weren’t sure when you had gotten so close to him, but the backwards step he took gave you enough confidence to continue. “And if you think you mean anything to her, above her children, above her passion, then you are so sorely mistaken that it’s almost funny. Because me, and so many others, have seen how much Miranda cares about those closest to her - and if she’s not making you better, then you’re clearly not worth her time. But maybe if you exercised some more respect, maybe if you showed you cared, she’d bother to call you back and she’d bother to act like your wife. But you don’t do that. So why should she show you what you don’t show her? Huh? Why should she love you when there’s other people out there- when- when there’s people like- like Nigel, like Emily, like me,” you took a deep breath, nearly choking on your words because you were talking so fast, “who would give her the world if she asked for it. Who would do anything to have her attention. So- so why should she love you when you take it for granted? When you, who gets it for free, don’t have to bend over backwards for her affection? When- when- you- you attend events with her, you have dinner with her, she calls you darling! And you take it all for GRANTED - BECAUSE YOU JUST DON’T CARE!”
Your eyes were most likely bloodshot. Your body was shaking. Your head was pounding and your heart was in your throat.
But Stephen looked shocked, having taken more steps backward toward the stairs as you approached him like a blood-thirsty lioness. And at that, watching the way his hand scrambled for the banister, you felt a strange twist of pride creep throughout your heart.
…But it wasn’t enough. You wanted him gone. So you cleared your throat, straightened your spine, and sniffed.
“That’s enough.”
Of course. Miranda cut in, her cool voice dousing your rage like a bucket of water over burning
coals; dragging you back into yourself from where you had gotten lost in the clouds; reminding you that you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place. That you were just an assistant. Just a young woman who had stepped out of line to try and protect a woman who didn’t really need it. And instinctively, as though you had been slapped in the face or tugged by a leash, you backpedaled until Miranda’s soft footsteps came over and her back faced you. Stephen’s expression was hidden.
“…I’ll contact Leslie in the morning,” her voice was soft… introspective… distant in a way that made you nervous. “Until then… find somewhere else to spend the night.”
And things grew very quiet.
The only sounds you heard were the bustle of the city and the individual breathing of the three of you. Everything else was silent. The rest of the house, empty without Patricia and the twins (all of which were visiting their grandparents), felt like a movie set with a hidden audience. As though, at about any minute, the credits for the end of the episode would roll and you, Miranda, and Stephen would let out sighs of relief and walk off set and go get cups of water and coffee. But even as you stood there, trying hard not to tilt to the left to watch Stephen walk downstairs and out of the house, you knew what had happened was no fun and games. No, you’d definitely be facing consequences once he was gone.
And finally, after a few more moments of prolonged silence, his footsteps were going down the stairs and into the foyer. Your eyes traced the contours of Miranda’s silk shirt, watching the way it flowed over her shoulders as she walked closer to the staircase to watch Stephen go. One minute- two minutes- and then the front door was opening and closing behind him…
…and silence fell again.
You swallowed, feeling as though you had suddenly been thrown into the center of the sun. The heat of your embarrassment was excruciating - and if Miranda turned around, she’d spot the blush on your cheeks instantaneously. But that was a strong if, because she hadn’t just yet. Nope, instead, she stood staring at the door, letting the air settle. And you weren’t going to interrupt that, so you kept your mouth shut and tried to rationalize mentally.
If she asked, you’d just tell her the truth. That the world got crueler each day and it was in your nature to worry and that no wife should ever come face to face with a furious partner - at least not without the chance to talk civilly at first. And then you’d tell her that it was okay if she wanted to fire you and that you were sorry for being so open and that if you had fucked things up, you’d do whatever you could to fix them.
…
The silence eventually became deafening. And there was an itch in your legs that was getting to you. And your hands were slowly untensing, left with an ache from the pressing of your fingernails. And the exhaustion from the long day was getting to you - so you cleared your throat and prepared yourself.
“Miranda, I’m so sor-”
“That was unnecessary.” You couldn’t hear an ounce of emotion in her tone.
And all you could do was nod and look down at your feet.
“I- I know. I know. But I just… I just couldn’t leave, Miranda.”
“You couldn’t or you didn’t want to?”
Well that was a brilliant question. One you wished you could answer without crying. One you wished you could answer without feeling like a complete loser.
“…Both, I guess.” You settled on the best option you could think of and began shaking your head when the only response you got was a low hum of acknowledgment.
And Miranda still hadn’t moved. She was probably compartmentalizing - or disappearing into her fashionable mind palace - all while you stood there looking at her like she had just smacked your ice cream onto the floor.
Well… if there was one thing you knew, it was that the tension-filled silence couldn’t continue. She could either fire you quickly or make it slow and painful, but either way you weren’t going down without a fight.
“Look, I’m sorry. I am. I know it was out of line and it was too much and I should’ve just kept my mouth shut but I promise I did it with good intentions. And I promise I wouldn’t have stayed if I wasn’t worried and I wouldn’t have said anything if I weren’t genuinely upset. And… and I don’t know if you want to fire me because of that, but if you’re gonna do it - please just get it over with. I know I’m a good assistant, I- I know I’ve learned quickly and I’m sorry that I just completely ruined that right now but if you somehow just gave me another chance, I wouldn’t make another mistake. I promise. And I wouldn’t- I- I-,” you stumbled over your words, feeling the intense pounding of your heart press up against your chest, like it was begging to bounce onto the floor and tumble down the stairs. And the feeling felt so sickening that you had to take a deep breath and shake your head and push down the angry, anxious, terrified tears that yearned to spill into your eyes. “And I- I’ll- I’ll never let anyone talk to you like that again… I promise.”
Your voice was frail. The fire from earlier was gone - as though it had never existed at all. And Miranda still just stood there, with her phone in one hand and her face turned away from you…. Like you weren’t good enough to see her. Like you didn’t deserve to know what she was thinki-”
“You talk too much.” It was the only thing she said before she turned around and walked right past you - faster than lightning.
And you blinked just in time, turning on your heel and staring after her.
“Wh-what? That’s it?” You called. No firing? No scolding?
The room she was heading into looked like a study - but that swiftly became unimportant when she paused at the door and turned to you.
Her face, lit up by the hall light, looked tired in the same way it was earlier. But her eyes… well there was something in them that you couldn’t place. It looked like amusement… and something softer. Something- dare you say- grateful. But it was probably just a trick of the light - and you were probably just hallucinating because of your own exhaustion - and she was most likely just itching to get her duty done and go to bed.
And you suspected that was the case until she took a second to look you up and down in that way that she did- with her blue eyes searching and her gaze laser-sharp- and eventually, eventually, she made it back up to your face. Her expression was blank.
“…On Monday morning, tell Emily that the clothing department has a new opening. Then tell everybody else.” There was a pause. “…And be prepared to start interviews on Tuesday.”
And the last you saw of her then- of the sweet poison you called Miranda Priestly- was the statuesque shape of her body’s side profile as she softly closed the study door.
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Thank you for the request, anon! I understand this isn't terribly fluffy, but I wanted to make it as realistic as I could. I hope you enjoyed! - Ripley
(P.S. DWP is my favorite movie!)
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#fanfictionwriter#fanfic#fanfiction#dwp#dwpfanfic#miranda priestly#miranda priestly x reader#miranda priestly fanfiction#devil wears prada#ripsanonreply#request#anon request#devil wears prada miranda priestly#miranda priestly devil wears prada#the devil wears prada#tw#tw fanfic
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What if instead of Andy walking in on Miranda's altercation with her husband, she walks in on Miranda and reader in bed or something intimate like deeply kissing/ ravaging each other- ⚰️
You can do what you want with the reactions and what not, I'll be waiting ( very excitedly) :))
Anniversaries
Pairing: Miranda Priestly x Reader
Word Count: 581
A/N: I'm not good at writing smut or steamy things. I tried :'( But I also loved the idea! Thanks for requesting!
You had gotten home early to surprise Miranda for your three year anniversary. Obviously, Miranda would get home later than you but that didn't mean you wouldn't surprise her. You've been told that Miranda wasn't one for surprises yet your surprises were the exception.
You ordered dinner in, sending Cara home early and letting her know you'd set everything up. Dinner was from Miranda's favorite restaurant and although she ordered from it daily, you knew her favorite dinner dish that she only orders on rare occasions. You also set up the dining room, setting a fresh bouquet of her favorite flowers on the middle of the table.
You also had a cheeky little surprise for Miranda. You had worked with Valentino on a dress for special occasions and you thought you'd wear it for Miranda. It was a sheer black lace dress that was see through on your chest and torso but had black shorts underneath on the bottom.
Hearing the front door open, you dimmed the lights and lit the rest of the candles.
"Happy anniversary Miranda!"
Miranda looked up from taking her heels off and you immediately saw her pupils dilate.
"Happy anniversary indeed…and where did you get this piece my love?"
Miranda threw her purse on the nearest table and stalked towards you, making you blush and bite your lip, "Valentino and I worked on this one. Do you like it?"
The white haired woman hummed in the affirmative before pulling you in by the waist. She couldn't keep her eyes off of you. "Oh darling I love it on you…but," she started backing you up into the lounge area, "I believe it would look better on the floor right now…"
Thank God the twins were out tonight
— — — — — — —
It was Andy's first time dropping off The Book and oh boy did she not want to do it.
Emily made it sound like a death wish if not done properly. Get the dry cleaning in the closet, put The Book down on the table with the flowers. Easy right?
Well she got the dry cleaning in, done. But there were multiple tables with flowers. How the hell would she know which one to put it on? Maybe she could just hand it to Miranda? There was some noise coming in from the lounge area…
Andy steeled herself before ruffling her bangs and headed towards the noise.
"Miranda? I–"
She was shocked.
Stunned.
Embarrassed.
On the sofa was you and Miranda in a heated makeout session. Miranda's hands were gripping and massaging your ass, your dress was pulled down towards your waist as Miranda worshiped your chest. Andy could now clearly hear your whimpers and moans which made her cheeks turn pink.
Her voice was stuck in her throat and she quickly turned around, threw The Book on the nearest table and bolted out the front door.
Miranda came up for air, your hand caressing her neck and you stopped her for a bit, "Did you hear something?"
"The twins are out tonight darling, I'm sure it was nothing."
"Mmmm where were we?"
Miranda smirked and continued attacking your chest.
It wasn't until you two decided to move to the bedroom that you both saw The Book sitting on a table and you knew someone had seen or heard what you were up to.
Miranda acknowledged The Book but guided you to the stairs, slapping your ass playfully.
You rolled your eyes before giggling, "I told you I heard something."
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My 2020 Recap
English Prelude:
So, I was thinking of recapping the whole 2020 with key events, and rating them according to four categories, to which each has their own significant meanings. The four categories are:
Blessings : Good Things that happened during 2020
Experiences : Key Events that are important to me, which I usually call Landmark Events
Blunders or Losses : Bad Things that happened during 2020, may it be my fault or just a bad day.
Page Changers : Things that change the course of the year, or maybe my own self.
I Hope that with this post, this can be an inspiration to the readers, and also it can be a reminder to keep moving forwards.
Indonesian Prelude:
Jadi, aku sempat berpikir untuk meringkas kejadian-kejadian di tahun 2020 dan memasukannya dalam berbagai kategori, yang masing-masing memiliki arti pentingnya sendiri. Kategori tersebut antara lain:
Blessings : Hal-hal baik dan berkat yang aku dapatkan di tahun 2020 ini.
Experiences : Kejadian-kejadian penting untukku, yang biasanya kupanggil kejadian-kejadian kunci.
Blunders atau Losses : Hal-hal buruk yang terjadi padaku di tahun 2020. Bisa karena salahku sendiri, maupun memang hari yang kebetulan buruk.
Page Changers : Hal-hal yang mengubah diriku maupun keadaan tahun ini secara general.
Aku harap dengan aku post ini, ini bisa menjadi inspirasi untuk pembacanya, dan juga dapat menjadi pengingat bagiku untuk selalu maju tanpa gentar.
List of Events
Pre 2020 / Sebelum 2020:
First Confession - Followed by a Rejection ; Experience
Jan 2020:
Known myself a little bit more - Tes Minat Bakat ; Laying the Basics
Natalan Persiska (Persekutuan Siswa Kristen Sekolah) ; Experience
Tryout Leap Out, masuk 30 Besar ; Blessings
Masuk Kuota SNM, No 1 Paralel ; Blessings
February 2020:
Tryout Karsa, masuk 20 Besar ; Blessings
Donor Darah Perdana ; Experience
Blocked Ann, Someone dear to me because of emotional drama in self ; Blunder/Loss
Pegalaman Koordinasi Persiapan dan Pendaftaran SNM ; Experiences
Unblocked Ann, but straining my relationship with her in the process ; Blunder
Pengalaman Koordinasi Foto Buken ; Experiences
March 2020:
Corona Lockdown started ; Game Changer
UN Ditiadakan ; Blessing for Me
Mulai Kangen suasana Sekolah ; Loss
Embraced Negative Emotions, Especially to Ann ; Blunder
April 2020:
Pengumuman UTBK hanya TPS ; Blessing for Me
Gagal SNMPTN ; Loss, Experience
Mulai Persiapan SBM ; Experience
Masuk Circle Ambis ; Blessing
May 2020 :
Kelulusan Online, Peringkat 2 Overall ; Blessing
Bagi-Bagi Takjil ; Experience, Blessing
Bukber Mini ; Blessing
Kondangan Online (In Roleplay) ; Experience
Met Solus, Another person which slowly turns important ; Blessing
Follows the choice of others ; Experience, Loss
Met Agelada, A Person from the Ambisverse that turned into a close friend ; Blessing
June 2020 :
Daftar SBM ; Experience
Belajar Bareng with Ann, but all I felt was discomfort. ; Loss
Beneran Ambis ; Blessing, Experience
Dark Side Takeover, Selection of “Friends”; Loss , Blunder
July 2020 :
Daftar Ujian Mandiri (Simak, Utul, UTMBK) ; Experience
Tes UTBK ; Experience
Ambis untuk SIMAK ; Experience
Closer with Solus ; Blessing
August 2020:
Ikut SIMAK UI ; Experience
Reconciled with Ann ; Blessing
Lolos UTBK in IPB - Agribisnis ; Blessing
Birthday ; Blessing
Ga Lolos SIMAK UI ; Loss, Experience
Ga Lolos UTUL UGM ; Loss, Experience
Mulai Mengurus Daftar Ulang + Tugas MPKMB IPB ; Experience
Meet dengan Alumni Smada di IPB ; Experience
September 2020:
MPKMB ; Experience
Pelatihan 7 Habits ; Experience, Blessing
Met New Friends ; Experience
Confessed to Solus - Followed by a Rejection ; Experience, Loss
Mulai Pendampingan ke Teman about Religion ; Experience
Daftar AIESEC ; Experience
Gets Second Highest Score in Placement Test ; Blessing
Fails in AIESEC’s FGD Selection ; Experience, Loss
October 2020:
Daftar IDC ; Experience
Fails in IDC’S Interview Selection ; Experience, Loss
UTS Perdana ; Experience
Rediscovered Attack on Titan ; Experience, Page Changer
November 2020:
Not Much Happening except Collage and Stuffs ; No category
Restarted writing NETLine!!! ; Experience
December 2020:
Daftar IPB Outsco ; Experience
Sikrab KEMAKI x FKMK 57 ; Blessing, Experience
TUGAS OLAHRAGA ; Experience
DWP-V 2020 ; Experience
Ngajak Jiwa Baru ke Gereja ; Blessing, Experience
Learned what it truly means to “Keep Moving Forward” ; Experience, Blessing
So, That’s my 2020. It has been a rollercoaster, but it was worth it. There was a lot that I can learn about, and it was an experience of a lifetime. Hopefully, this can be an inspiration and a reminder for me and to all of us.
Jadi, itu 2020ku. Banyak kejadian yang terjadi,namun semuanya banyak hikmahnya. Banyak yang dapat kupelajari, dan semuanya tak akan bisa terulang kembali. Kiranya ini bisa menjadi inspirasi dan pengingat untukku dan untuk semuanya.
#new years#tahun baru#2020#2021#recap#year recap#year review#learning a lot from this year#contemplation#growth
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So you’re telling me that the DWP fandom as been around for 13 some odd years and there’s not a single Miranda x Reader fic??
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Anonymous: sub Miranda priestly? 👀🙏❤
Fuck yeah! I’ve always had a head canon that she’s a sub. She’s just incredibly stressed and definitely needs to be taken care of. Reader, as usual, is gender neutral. Let’s get into it!
You had been Miranda’s assistant for much longer than most. You attribute your staying power to the fact that you just don’t really care about wearing expensive clothing and the latest styles. You want to be true to yourself. You don’t care if you fit in with everyone else’s expectations. Of course you dress professionally, but you don’t go overboard. You’ve done your research and understand the business, however, you’re not getting discouraged and drained by it. You’re confident in yourself and don’t feel the need to put up a facade.
Sure. Nigel and Emily tease you. But slowly, they’ve come to accept you for who you are. You three often go out for drinks after work.
Miranda, however, has apparently not warmed up to you as much. (That’s actually not true, though. She’s just really good at hiding her attraction to you.) She still won’t call you by your actual name and sends you on ridiculous errands. But, she has also started asking for you to bring the book by the house. She only sends people she trusts with the book. You’re honored.
Today, Miranda is in a much worse mood than usual.
You, Emily, and Nigel are chatting and making each other laugh when Miranda arrives. She’s half an hour later than she typically is and that’s seemingly contributing to her frustration.
She storms in and flings her jacket on your desk, unintentionally knocking Nigel’s scalding hot cup of coffee all over the front of your shirt and in your lap.
If Miranda noticed what she did, she didn’t acknowledge it. She goes right into her office and closes the door.
You hiss in agony as you bite back some cuss words.
Nigel gasps and immediately grabs some tissues to try and soak up the spill on your desk. “Are you okay, Y/N?” He asks, horrified.
“Yeah, Nigel. I’m fine… But, I can’t walk around like this all day.” You say and grimace at your stained clothes. “What the hell am I going to do? I don’t have the time to run home and change.” You ask.
Nigel looks at Miranda’s closed office door. He can tell she’s going to be a while. He turns back and grins at you. “Where do you think you are, Y/N?” He says… And immediately decides to make you his next project.
Nigel gives you tons of clothes to try on. You tell him he’s going overboard, but he just glares at you and you shut up.
By the time you’re done, Nigel has picked out the perfect sleek suit for you to wear. He helps you style your hair and tells you to go look at yourself in the mirror.
“Wow… That’s me?” You ask in shock. You look like a completely different person.
Nigel nods with a pleased smile. “It’s certainly an improvement.” He says jokingly. “Keep up that usual confidence and people are going to think you own Runway.” He winks.
“Thanks, Nigel. I really appreciate it.” You tell him.
“Don’t thank me, I was just tired of seeing you dress like an accountant.” He says, crinkling his nose.
You roll your eyes and get back to the office. As you walk in, Emily almost spits out the tea she was drinking before she starts coughing violently.
You raise a perplexed eyebrow. Emily’s cheeks are burning. “What is it, Em?” You ask.
Emily composes herself and clears her throat. “So, you actually look decent for once. Hell must have just frozen over.” She says, trying to seem disinterested in how great you look in your new outfit.
“Haha, very funny.” You say and go to sit back at your desk.
Before long, you hear Miranda’s voice from her office. “Emily.” She says. You huff. She said it in the tone she uses when she means you.
You quickly get up and walk in with a notepad and pen. “Yes, Miranda?” You ask and look down at the paper to get ready to jot some stuff down.
Miranda doesn’t speak immediately.
The silence makes you look up at her in confusion.
Miranda’s face can’t hide the shock she clearly feels. Damn. You look really hot. She can’t help but wonder how much better it would look off of you, though… With your hands exploring her body… Shit! Pull yourself together, Miranda! She thinks harshly to herself and tries to snap out of the trance you’ve put her in.
She knows what a heartthrob you are (She’s not dumb), but this… This is just not fair to suddenly spring on her.
You clear your throat after Miranda’s been staring at you for a while.
The editor slightly shakes her head before her brain gets the message to start working once again. “Get Marc on the phone and make a reservation at that place I like. And Patricia needs to be picked up from the groomers.” She says in her calm, but demanding voice. Her momentary internal freak out has finally passed.
You nod. “I’m on it.” You say quickly and leave.
Miranda clenches her jaw. This is Nigel’s doing, she’s sure of it.
——————————————————————————
The rest of the day goes by routinely. Impossible demands are met and you take great pleasure in your efficiency. Later on, Miranda leaves for the day and you finish up some work before going to take the book over.
You get to the townhouse and enter… However, there is an immediate and noticeable tension. Something is wrong. You hear a man’s furious voice and… Miranda’s. You can tell she’s trying to placate whoever she’s talking to, but the man’s voice only grows louder. You’ve never heard Miranda so… Shaken up. You look up at the stairway balcony and see two frightened little redheads peeking their faces out at you. They are silently pleading with you to do something.
Your vision goes red. You stomp up the stairway and make your way to the sound of Miranda’s voice. She sounds… Scared. You turn the corner and see a man, about Miranda’s age, yelling and berating her. You’re almost positive that this is her husband. You and Miranda’s eyes meet. She is so relieved to see you.
The man reaches out to grab Miranda’s arm roughly, but you immediately pull him back by his collar before he can lay his disgusting hand on her. You shove him hard up against the wall, seething. “Alright, you’re done, asshole! Let’s go!” You tell him and drag him harshly down the stairs with your arm tightly around his neck.
“Who the fuck are you?!” He shouts, grunting in pain from your iron grip.
“Your worst fucking nightmare if you continue to make bad choices.” You say darkly. “If I see you back here again we’re going to have a problem. Get it?” You ask and violently shove him down the townhouse’s front steps.
The man stumbles and trips over himself. He splutters as he gets up and looks at you stupidly.
“Beat it!” You yell at him.
The man sees the rage in your eyes and decides to get going. He’s not going to mess with you.
You watch as he leaves like a pathetic idiot. You make sure that he’s gone before closing the front door, locking it, and sighing. You turn around and see Miranda at the top of the stairs.
Her eyes are red from crying and she looks so… Vulnerable.
Cassidy and Caroline begin to sob as they hurry over to hug their mother.
“It’s okay, bobbseys. Mommy’s here.” She assures. Wow. Her voice is so soft and warm right now. You… Love the sound of it like this. It’s comforting.
You quietly make your way up the stairs. “Are you all okay?” You ask gently.
Miranda sees you approaching and begins bawling herself. She reaches out to pull you into a group hug with the girls. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you.” She says.
Your eyes grow wide. You’ve never heard her say thank you before. You enjoy the feeling of them all in your arms. You could certainly get used to this.
You four finally pull away from each other, but Cassidy immediately clings to your side. She feels safe with you. Not to be outdone, Caroline quickly grabs onto your other side. You look to Miranda in astonishment and she can’t help but chuckle tearily as she looks at the shock on your face.
“I would say that you have won these two over.” She says with a smile and looks at her precious daughters.
You decide that you rather like the idea of the girls approving of you.
Miranda leads you all to the girls’ bedroom and Caroline and Cassidy immediately hop in the same bed and cuddle with each other. Miranda tucks them in and sits on the edge next to them. “Now, bobbseys. I know that was very scary.” She says. “But Y/N protected us.” She says and looks at you in gratitude.
“Thank you, Y/N.” Caroline says.
“Yeah, thanks, Y/N!” Cassidy eagerly adds.
You blush intensely. “My pleasure.” You mumble out, embarrassed.
“Stephen will not be a problem any longer.” Miranda says, looking back at the girls. First thing in the morning, she’s filing divorce papers against that son of a bitch. A restraining order too.
“So, Stephen’s not going to live here anymore?” Caroline asks.
Miranda cups her face. “No, he won’t, bobbsey.” Miranda promises.
Caroline nods, feeling relieved.
“Now, would you like a song to help you fall asleep?” Miranda entices.
The girls eagerly nod.
Miranda turns to you and pats the bed next to her. You quickly take a seat and can feel her lightly leaning against you. She’s so warm. She gently holds your hand and squeezes it.
Miranda sings a beautiful Yiddish lullaby. You are once again falling in love with her voice. You could listen to it constantly.
The girls are soothed by their mother’s singing. They quickly fall asleep.
Miranda ends the song and kisses each daughter on the head before standing up and guiding you out of the room. She turns off the lights and closes the door.
Miranda grabs your hand and leads you to her bedroom. “Y/N, I… I can’t thank you enough.” Miranda says, breaking down once again.
You wrap her in a hug. “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.” You tell her and rub her back.
Miranda lets herself cry for a minute and you calmly whisper soft reassurances in her ear. You will never let anything harm her or the girls again. Something about your dynamic with them has completely changed. You will protect them with your life from here on out.
After Miranda has allowed herself some time to cry, she suddenly pulls back and looks at you closely.
You look back at her. “Miranda?” You ask.
“I… Feel safe… With you, Y/N.” Miranda reveals. She’s just pinpointed why she loves being around you. Every time at work when Miranda has forgotten something or made a tiny mistake, you swoop in and fix it… And now… This. You’re like her own personal superhero.
Miranda’s statement makes your heart rate pick up. You love that you make her feel secure.
“I think that… I haven’t felt truly safe and protected like this since I lost my father.” Miranda realizes and looks you in the eye. “I… Want you here with me, Y/N. Please, will you stay tonight?” She pleads.
You had no intentions of leaving anyway. You wanted to make sure Stephen was really gone. You smile. “Absolutely. I’ll go sleep on the couch.” You tell her. “Good night, Mi-”
“No!” Miranda all but shrieks.
Your posture becomes rigid. Miranda’s never raised her voice before. It’s quite startling. You turn to look at her but Miranda suddenly cups your face.
“Please… Stay in here with me.” She begs.
You can’t say no to her. You nod. “Okay.” You agree.
Then… Something happens that totally changes you for good. Miranda leans forward and places a gentle kiss to your lips. Your brain short-circuits for a second before you kiss her back. Her lips are so velvety. You need more.
Miranda moans softly and it’s the most tantalizing thing you’ve ever heard. She pulls away and looks critically at you. “Nigel knew what he was doing when he dressed you.” She says with a small smirk. “What an evil way to torture me all day.” She whispers.
You laugh and wink. “You can blame yourself for that. You spilled coffee all over me.” You tell her.
Miranda is mortified. She doesn’t remember that. “I… What?” She asks, confused.
“Forget it. I’ll tell you later.” You grin and start to trail kisses down to the base of her throat.
Miranda whines as she grips your hair, wanting you to keep going. You carefully pick her up and lie her on the bed before positioning yourself on top of her. “Let me take your shirt off, doll baby.” You tell her and begin unbuttoning her fancy blouse.
Miranda all but melts as she sees the feral look in your eyes. This is what she needs. To be taken care of and… Completely worshipped.
Note: Haha, so no smut, but the unexpected dom/sub dynamics were really fun to work with on a more emotional level. Depending on if y'all like this one, I may write some smut for it. Hope you enjoyed this!
Masterlist
#miranda priestly#the devil wears prada#dwp#miranda priestly x reader#devil wears prada#emily charlton#nigel kipling#caroline priestly#cassidy priestly#meryl streep#emily blunt#stanley tucci
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Anonymous: So, I was thinking *hides behind Alcina's strong legs* if you'd be so kind as to do a Miranda Priestly/Reader/Alcina Dimitrescu in The Devil Wears Prada AU where Alcina is a celebrity and the Reader is a tailor *idk lol* and both Miranda and Alcina want the dress that Reader has made (like it's so beautiful and world-famous and everyone wants it but its only one). So Reader can't choose who to give the dress to so she makes another one, the exact replice of it. Maybe a little bit of "Mine" statements from Miranda? Thanks in advance.
Miranda Priestly AND Alcina Dimitrescu? Hell yes, please. Let’s get into it!
Miranda Priestly and Alcina Dimitrescu are both icons in their respective fields. Miranda, as the editor-in-chief of Runway magazine, commands the fashion industry with her keen eye for style and her sharp tongue. As a tailor, you look up to Miranda and trust her judgement when it comes to setting the latest trends.
Alcina, on the other hand, is a renowned celebrity and socialite known for her elegance and grace. She is a successful and gifted jazz vocalist. She’s your favorite singer.
You are a skilled tailor who has just gained overnight fame for creating a stunning dress that has taken the world by storm. The dress is in such high demand that everyone from Hollywood celebrities to European royalty has been talking about it.
Today, you’ve received two separate requests for the same dress – One from Miranda Priestly and the other from Alcina Dimitrescu… Holy shit. What? Both women are insistent on acquiring the dress, and you find yourself in a difficult position as you… Only created one. This is tough.
After much deliberation, you come up with a solution: You will just make an exact replica of the dress so that both women can have one. It’s not a foolproof fix, but it’s at least the best one you can think of. (Hopefully they won’t mind that the dress will not truly be unique any longer). You work tirelessly, pouring all of your skill and dedication into creating a duplicate that is just as beautiful as the original.
But, despite your effort to create a replica of the dress and satisfy them both, Miranda insists that the dress is hers and wants it to remain an exclusively one-of-a-kind piece. The powerful editor-in-chief of Runway refuses to believe that anyone else could possibly possess something as exquisite as this dress.
Funnily enough, Miranda has actually met Alcina quite a few times at various events. She respects her and knows the clout she has. If Alcina gets the dress… Miranda knows EVERYONE who follows her career is going to saturate the media and declare that this is an iconic look belonging only to her. While Miranda is a beloved, and sometimes controversial personality, she’s not in the spotlight quite like Alcina is. The knowledge that Alcina is also trying to obtain the dress, her dress, is somewhat worrisome.
Miranda keeps insisting that she was the first to request the dress, and thus, it should rightfully belong to her… That’s not true, though.
Once your dress started hitting social media, many other high-ranking fashion mavens had already been clamoring for it… You only cared about selling it when you learned that both Miranda and Alcina wanted it, however. Again, you have been a fan of their work seemingly all of your life. You also definitely have a major crush on both of them which is clouding your vision. It was an honor when you got both of their requests. And it makes you very fucking nervous.
After days of being bombarded with endless phone calls from both Miranda’s and Alcina’s personal assistants, you have had enough. Despite the financial gain that comes with creating dresses for two of the most influential women in the world, you realize that your sanity is more important than any amount of money.
In a bold move, you demand that you will only sell these pieces if you can meet Miranda and Alcina in person to work out the details. Either both of them get a chance to own the dresses or neither of them do. You explain that it’s important for you to understand the individual needs of each woman and to ensure that they are satisfied with the final product… But it’s really an excuse to get them to quit the bickering, and so you can actually meet them.
After some initial resistance, both personal assistants reluctantly agree to arrange the meeting. You feel a sense of relief knowing that you can take control of the situation and finally put an end to the many phone calls.
As you prepare to meet with Miranda and Alcina, you take a deep breath and remind yourself that your work is highly sought after for a reason, and that you have the power to create something truly remarkable for both of these women.
Finally, the day arrives when you present the dresses to Miranda and Alcina. As you go out to your lobby to bring them both back to your office, you are suddenly speechless. They’re even more gorgeous in person. Your heart thunders hard as they both look you over. Analyzing you.
Oh, man… Maybe this was a horrible idea.
Masterlist
#re8#re8 village#alcina dimitrescu#re8 shitpost#lady dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu x reader#alcina dimitrescu x y/n#alcina dimitrescu x reader#lady dimitrescu x y/n#miranda priestly x reader#miranda priestly x y/n#miranda priestly#dwp#devil wears prada#the devil wears prada#crossover
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Anonymous: I just rewatched the devil wears prada, and can't stop thinking about reader hanging out with the twins helping them with homework or something when one of them asks reader when their gonna marry Miranda. Which catches reader off guard so the twins say because they're the happiest with them compered to Miranda's previous marriages, while their talk she comes home and smiles to herself that the twins approve highly of reader. Do you think she would bring this up to reader or would she keep it to herself for later? Btw I love your works and I hope you have a great day :) aslo sorry if it's a long ask I just had this bubbling in my brain after watching
Cute T^T I could go for some Miranda right about now XD Let’s get into it!
The sun was slowly setting over the bustling streets of New York City as you found yourself sitting at the kitchen table of Miranda’s elegant townhome. The twins were engrossed in their homework as they rapidly fired questions at you.
“Y/N, what’s the area of this triangle?” Caroline asked eagerly, pointing to a diagram in her math textbook.
You smiled, leaning closer to inspect the problem. “Let’s see. Well, to find the area of a triangle, you need to multiply the base by the height and divide it by two.”
As you explained the concept, your mind began to drift. You couldn’t believe how close you were with the girls now. They were hellbent on getting you fired when you first started working for Miranda… But, it had been almost a year now and the two have come to adore you. You and Miranda have grown inseparable also. You two have been dating seriously for the past few months and you’ve never been happier. It feels like everything in your life is falling into place finally.
Lost in your thoughts, you were taken aback when Cassidy suddenly spoke up, breaking the silence. “Hey, Y/N, when are you gonna marry our mom?”
You shot up ramrod straight, your heart skipping a beat and face flushing violently. You looked at the twins with wide eyes, unable to comprehend the question. “What?! Where’d that come from?!” You panic, trying not to look like an idiot… But failing.
Caroline and Cassidy exchanged a mischievous glance, as if they had been expecting this type of reaction out of you.
Caroline spoke with an air of confidence, “Well, it’s just that Mom’s been married twice before and she didn’t seem very happy. But when you’re around, she smiles more and she’s a lot calmer. Maybe you could be the one for her,” She explains, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Your mind was racing, trying to process the implications of the twins’ words. Did Miranda truly feel that way? Was she happier with you than anyone she had ever been with? Or was this simply a product of childhood innocence and wishful thinking?
However, before you could collect your thoughts, Miranda’s elegant figure appeared in the doorway.
Oh, shit. Did she hear any of that?
Miranda stood there for a moment, observing you and the twins with a soft, loving smile on her face.
“Well, well, what a lovely surprise, darling,” Miranda said to you, her voice filled with warmth and genuine affection. “I didn’t expect you to be home yet.”
You cleared your throat nervously. “U-uh! Yeah! Yeah, Nigel got the final print ready and I brought it home so you could take a look,” You stammered.
Miranda thinks you look so cute when you’re flustered like this. She grins softly. “Thank you, my love,” She tells you. “How is the homework coming along, you three?” She asks, addressing all of you.
Caroline and Cassidy jumped up from their seats, eager to show their progress to their mother.
As she approached the kitchen table, Miranda’s eyes briefly caught yours, a glimmer of understanding passing between you.
Fuck. You could sense that she had indeed overheard the earlier conversation between you and the twins. You hope she isn’t freaked out or anything.
As usual, though, Miranda’s tells are not obvious. Great. Now you’re going to be stressing all night about what she’s thinking.
Miranda easily guided the conversation towards the schoolwork, taking note of the twins’ achievements and offering her support and praise. She was proud of their work, but her gaze kept returning to you, more so than usual.
As the evening progressed, you couldn’t help but wonder if Miranda would ever bring up the twins’ words. If she would even acknowledge that she overheard what you three were talking about. You are deeply in love with this woman. So… Honestly, yes. You have thought about proposing to her. Multiple times… Before you chicken out. You try to remain neutral for now. You can’t show your cards. You have to see what Miranda will say first.
There were moments tonight when it seemed as though Miranda was on the brink of broaching the subject. Her eyes lingering on yours a little longer, her smile a touch more tender.
However, the night wore on, you began to fear that Miranda would keep her thoughts to herself for a later time. Perhaps she wanted to give you both space to process the unexpected revelation, to let your emotions settle before addressing the complexities of your relationship.
Eventually, bedtime arrived. Miranda helped the girls get ready and cleaned up and you tucked them into their beds.
As you followed Miranda out and began to turn off the lights, Caroline suddenly looked up at you with a soft smile. “Hey, Y/N. Can you come here for a second?” She whispered conspiratorially.
You quirked an eyebrow in confusion. “Okay,” You said with a grin. “One sec, babe,” You told Miranda. She nodded with a smile and waited just outside the bedroom door.
You walked over to Caroline’s bed. “What’s up, bud?” You asked.
“Y/N, even if you don’t marry our mom, we’ll always love you,” She said quietly. She turned and looked at Cassidy, silently asking if she agreed.
Cassidy nodded rapidly. “Yeah! We love you, Y/N!” She said excitedly.
You felt a lump forming in your throat, overwhelmed by the depth of the girls’ feelings. “Thanks, you two. That means a lot to me. I love you both too,” You say and give them each a kiss on the forehead.
As you made your way out and closed the twins’ bedroom door, Miranda was still in the hallway, her expression now unreadable. She wordlessly took your hand and led you to her room.
“I heard what the girls said earlier,” Miranda told you, her voice filled with a mixture of raw emotion and uncertainty. “And, while you may not have an answer for them right now, I want you to know that I cherish what we have,” She smiled softly. “I’m glad they can see what I see. You are a wonderful person, darling and I love you so much.”
Your heart swelled with happiness, understanding the weight behind Miranda’s words. You leaned in and gave her a kiss, savoring the beautiful woman in front of you.
The path ahead might be uncertain, but the bond you shared with Miranda and the girls was undeniably special. And for the time being, that was enough – A cherished family in the making, filled with love, laughter, and the promise of a future where anything was possible.
Masterlist
#miranda priestly#the devil wears prada#dwp#miranda priestly x reader#devil wears prada#caroline priestly#cassidy priestly#meryl streep#miranda priestly x y/n#y/n is stupid
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Miranda Priestly x Designer Y/N part 2
So, this is the second part of a Miranda Priestly x Y/N drabble where Y/N is a designer doing their first photoshoot at Runway. Read the first part here! This is more from Miranda’s perspective. Let’s get into it!
Miranda had actually been having a good morning. The girls were doing well in school and were excited for an upcoming recital. Miranda smiled as Caroline and Cassidy told her what they planned on playing.
She was also looking forward to seeing a new designer today… That was was quite unusual, though. Most up and coming designers were arrogant and full of themselves. Miranda had no time for egos, she had a magazine to run.
Miranda had handpicked this designer, Y/N L/N, after seeing their work at a recent fashion show. Their work was bold, but clean and well-crafted. She was certain they would be the new face of fashion. And she was never wrong.
While Miranda and Y/N had not met personally, Miranda had seen them come out and be applauded at the end of the fashion show and they were… Good looking to say the least.
Why was she so entranced by this person? She had never felt anything like it. She decided she would just have to mask her attraction with disinterest when she saw them today.
——————————————————————————
Miranda walked into the photo studio and had to deal with unprofessional and rude models, her good mood from earlier had dampened. It seemed the dragon needed to make an appearance.
“My makeup looks horrible! Someone needs to do it again!” One model whined to a makeup artist.
“Perhaps it is the canvas that is the problem and not the artist.” Miranda quipped in her cool voice.
“What did you say to me?” The model spit. She was less than intimidating and resembled a petulant child. She needed to learn her place.
Miranda’s blue eyes hardened to an icy glare as she assessed the sneering woman. “That’s all.” She said and flicked her hand dismissively.
A Runway employee quickly walked the stunned woman out, but she tried to protest.
“You’re just gonna fire me like that?!” She yelled over all of the noise in the room.
Miranda just scoffed and walked away. She had work to do.
The shoot was supposed to be at 10:00, but with strict instructions for Y/N to arrive 15 minutes early. As 10:00 came and went, Miranda was actually a bit concerned for Y/N. She knew that they would be missing a huge opportunity for their career and she hated the thought of them not taking their chance… Wait. Why was she worrying about some designer who hadn’t even paid their dues yet? Hell, she had never even met them.
Miranda decided to go back to her office with the excuse that she had unrelated work to attend to (But she really just went to see if she could find a contact number for Y/N).
About 5 minutes of unfruitful searching later, Miranda was informed by an employee that Y/N had finally arrived. She felt relieved, but quickly donned her ice queen persona and made her way to the studio.
Miranda approached the room and noticed someone talking with Emily and Nigel. It must be Y/N. She felt an unusual bout of butterflies, but she shook it off as she got closer. Nobody would see her flustered. Ever.
Y/N was holding a hand to their forehead… Was that blood?
“Could I get a bandaid?” They asked Nigel and Emily.
Wow. That voice was… Something else. Miranda was not expecting such a smooth and velvety sound.
Miranda was entranced and decided to play with Y/N a bit. Much like a predator and its prey. Y/N would be too easy to embarrass.
“Ten minutes late and you are making demands?” She says. “Thrilling.”
Y/N quickly turns around and Miranda almost melts at how cute they look. Young and fresh-faced. Y/N looks so innocent with those big eyes. She wants to reach out and tend to Y/N’s injuries, (Was that why they were late? Poor thing.) But, she calms herself and looks at Y/N with feigned disinterest before pulling Nigel aside to go over the shoot.
Miranda feels deep satisfaction as she looks over and realizes that Y/N is still staring at her in awe while she and Nigel talk. She inwardly laughs as she listens to Emily rattle off the list of things Miranda will not tolerate to Y/N.
Y/N looks terrified, but Miranda knows they’ll do great.
Nigel picks up on Miranda’s softness for Y/N. He’s good. “So, that’s an interesting little ruffian you’ve managed to find. Thinking of keeping them?” He gently teases.
Miranda rolls her eyes at her friend. “Drop it, Nigel.” She bites out.
Nigel raises his hands in mock surrender before going to talk with the photographer.
Miranda once again looks over to Y/N and their eyes meet. She feels a spark of exhilaration as Y/N tries (And fails) to check her out discreetly. Maybe she should keep Y/N around. She hasn’t had this much fun on the job in years.
Masterlist
#miranda priestly#the devil wears prada#dwp#miranda priestly x reader#devil wears prada#emily charlton#nigel kipling#meryl streep#emily blunt#stanley tucci#miranda priestly x y/n#y/n is stupid
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@lesbeansimpzombie : Hi!! Can you please do Miranda Priestly and Y/N when they first met. Y/N is a new fashion designer and they came to Runway to shoot their shot to be feature in the magazine. If you can't, I understand. Hope you have a nice day!!
Yes! I love it! (I can also imagine a Devil Wears Prada AU for RE8 with Alcina as Miranda Priestly… Has that been done??) Let’s get into it!
You were running late and trying not to freak out. This was your big moment to showcase yourself as a designer and you had encountered nothing but trouble since you woke up.
First, your car wouldn’t start. You were fine, though. You’d catch a ride from a friend or something. However, when you went to grab your phone, you realized you couldn’t find it. Where the hell was it?! You were too broke to afford a landline, so you had no way to contact anybody outside of email… You decided you would have to ride your bike and hope that someone at the shoot would let you borrow their phone if you needed to.
You headed off, with three overstuffed garment bags draped over you, when some jerk almost ran you over! You crashed into the back of a parked dump track. Luckily, you weren’t severely hurt, just a gash on your forehead and arm… Your bike, unfortunately, was not so lucky. The front wheel was completely bent. You couldn’t ride it anymore.
As you started walking up the street, trying desperately to get to the Elias Clarke building, you spotted somebody skateboarding in your direction. You flagged them down, and probably looked crazy with your giant garment bags and scraped up face. You held out your wallet and told the person that you had exactly fourty-four dollars inside. You begged them to take it so you could buy their skateboard off of them. They must have felt bad because they immediately said yes. You cheered and jumped on the board to try and make up some time. You had been a bit of a skater since high school, so it looked like things might be turning in your favor.
You finally made it to Elias Clarke and hopped off the board to check-in with security. They gave you a day badge and you made your way to the elevators. When you got there, you saw a frantic little red head looking all around.
She spotted you and rolled her eyes, quickly walking over. “You must be Y/N L/N. You’re late.” She said in a disdained British accent.
“Sorry, I just-” You tried to say but she held up a hand, not interested.
“Miranda’s already dismissed three models today because she’s so angry. You’d better hope you’re a decent designer.”
She waved you into the elevator and you clenched your jaw. You didn’t want anybody getting in trouble because of you.
“I’m really sorry about the models. If you give me their information, I’ll be happy to pay their fees for the day… If I can afford it.” You offered and grimaced.
Emily looked at you in disbelief. Most of the designers she ran across were arrogant and rude. She soon recovered, though and cleared her throat before she shook her head.
“Don’t be ridiculous. They’re managed by huge agencies. They’ll just get another gig. You’re not important enough to put anybody out of a job.” She crossed her arms. “Besides, they were horrible divas anyway.” She added with a sneer.
You start laughing. This woman seemed more like a caricature than a real person, but you liked her style.
Emily groans and as the elevator dings, she is immediately speed-walking out of it. For such a tiny person, she can haul ass. You readjust your bags, and your new skateboard, and Emily leads you into a large studio.
She’s met by a middle-aged man in black spectacles. He looks you up and down, seemingly bemused.
“This is the newest hot thing in fashion?” He asks the redhead, clearly unimpressed.
“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You go to shake the man’s hand and he just looks at it like you are contagious.
“I’m Nigel, the art director.” He says, now looking you over more closely. He points to your injuries. “You’re going to want to wrap those up, Roadhouse. Miranda can smell blood from her office.”
You nervously scratch the back of your neck and remember your arm and head are still bleeding. “Could I get a bandaid?” you ask, embarrassed.
“Ten minutes late and you are making demands?” A cool voice says from behind you. “Thrilling.”
Everyone around you looks petrified, even Nigel and Emily. You turn around to see a beautiful woman with strikingly coifed snow-white hair. You involuntarily swallow and stand straighter.
The woman regards you for a moment but says nothing. She then turns to Nigel and the two of them walk over to a more secluded corner to discuss the photoshoot.
The startled look you shoot Emily has her once again rolling her eyes at you. “That is Miranda Priestly. You will only speak to her when spoken to and whatever you do, do not ask her questions. You are in no way to call her Mrs. Priestly. It’s Miranda, got it?”
You nod your head. “She’s the editor?” You ask.
Emily smirks. “She is your chance at a career. Do not disappoint her.” The redhead briskly walks off then.
You clear your throat and look over to the quietly intimidating editor. She had already been staring at you but when your eyes meet she looks away, disinterested.
You winced.
You had made a perfectly disastrous first impression… Things could only go up from here, right?
Note: Ahh, I loved writing this so much!
Masterlist
#miranda priestly#the devil wears prada#dwp#miranda priestly x reader#devil wears prada#emily charlton#nigel kipling#meryl streep#emily blunt#stanley tucci#miranda priestly x y/n#y/n is stupid
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