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#miranda priestly x reader
rosiexweil · 8 months
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To the writers out there who makes x oc fanfics please stop putting them in the “character x reader” or the “character x y/n” tags
Thank you 🫶🏻
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kingpreciouswrld · 2 months
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If you’re still accepting Miranda Priestly x Reader fic ideas i’ve got one!
Miranda and Reader have been married or a long time now secretly of course to prevent a media mishap. The reader is a stylist who sometimes stops to visit and help with a showcase, maybe she comes in casually to have lunch with Miranda and gets stopped by Andrea and Emily who try to get her to leave as they don’t know her(only Nigel does) and they’re both trying to tell Emily and Andrea that she’s allowed back there without exposing the marriage, eventually Miranda just comes out and asks why they’re touching her wife ( or something of the sort???) feel free to branch from this
ask and ye shall receive!
I hope you like it! It's been a while since I've written for anyone but myself :3
Nobody's Gonna Know
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It’s an unusually busy day in your office. The clothes you’ve ordered haven’t arrived yet and your workers seem to not know how to conduct themselves in a manner without the very needed materials. You looked on through the glass doors as your workers ran around like headless chickens, trying to come up with something to show you before you needed to leave.
As a well-known stylist, it was your job to come up with new and creative or out-of-the-box looks to those who paid for your help. You mainly helped with showcases that Runway Magazine held and the clothes you needed today were actually from Runway Magazine. Through the grapevine you’ve heard that their workers were just as clueless as yours when it came to the clothes you were seeking.
As you sat in your little office, you thought back to when you first started out. You were a nobody, hell you weren’t even a New York local. No, you came from a small town in the middle of nowhere. Having nothing to your name, you first tried making it in California. You gained some traction which led you to move to New York. At first you were against it. You didn’t like big cities all that much, it just wasn’t your scene but you knew that your talent and job called for being around big things.
A year into the job, you attended a charity event where you were introduced to the one and only, Miranda Priestly. It was hard to read the woman at first but you saw it in her eyes, she liked you or at least, your work. That’s how it all started. You started to come and do jobs at Runway Magazine while also taking some jobs on the side. Not to mention the growing relationship between you and the editor which also included the lives of her rambunctious daughters and her slobbery saint bernard.
3 years passed and Miranda and you kept things underwraps. Heaven knows you’d have a field day for Page Six and their stinging words, so you have kept your relationship from everyone. Well, everyone except those closest to you.
Sighing, you looked at the clock. It was almost lunch time and Miranda didn’t like to be kept waiting.
You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “Annie, reschedule the runthrough until this afternoon. I’m sure Runway will do the same due to the circumstances with its clothing gone missing. I’m going out for lunch.” Your assistant nodded and frantically went to work at her computer as you passed her.
Making your way to Elias Clarke, you weaved through the small crowds before entering the building– blending in with the clackers around you. No one knew about your relationship with the fashion queen so you easily blended with crowds and you loved it. No one bothered you.
Until they did.
You had made your way up to Runway’s floors when you passed the front desk and made your way towards Miranda’s inner sanctum. You’ve been to Runway multiple times so no one blinked an eye as you strolled down the halls.
Reaching the outer office of Miranda’s, you haven’t intended to actually be stopped by her assistants.
Andy was the first to notice you as Emily was out.
“Oh! Y/n! I’m sorry but Miranda is in a meeting so you wouldn’t be able to go in right away.” 
You looked at the clock above the assistant’s desk. 11:56 am. Knowing your wife, you knew she wouldn’t mind if you interrupted her work. She never minded when you did it at home, so why would her workplace be different?
“Trust me, I think Miranda wouldn’t mind Andy. So I’m just gonna…”
You tried to step past the young woman but Andy just stepped in front of you. The assistant’s eyes widened as you tried to step past her again but she blocked your way through.
There was only so much you could do so you sighed as you looked back at the clock. 
11:58 am.
This time, you tried to listen for the soft voices coming from your wife’s office. There were only two that you could pick up on. One was, of course, Miranda’s but the other was a man’s voice. Somewhat…feminine? But not too feminine.
“Is it just Nigel and Miranda in there?”
As you tried stepping past the brunette, again she blocked your path.
“Look Y/n, if you keep this up I’m going to have to call security.”
At this time, Emily walked in and took in the scene in front of her, “Andrea? What’s going on here?”
As Andy was distracted, you tried to step past her again but only to be grabbed by the arm and pulled back, away from Miranda’s office door, “Woah! Okay, no touchy, alright? These cost more than your paycheck alright?”
Emily huffed and rolled her eyes but didn’t release you. Andy looked like she was nervous about losing her job. She knew you were stubborn and wouldn’t stop until you were able to see Miranda.
“Since you already have her, escort her to the lobby Em. She’s been trying to break into Miranda’s office. “ ‘Break into’? I’m just trying to see my– ugh, look, I’ll just wait alright? You guys don’t need to be so touchy about–”
Before you could finish your sentence, the brit was already moving towards the front desk area. You immediately stood your ground so the redhead would have a harder time moving you. You’d show them stubborn.
As the three of you were arguing and you were still struggling against Emily’s hold– you didn’t know how the redhead was this strong– you three failed to notice Miranda’s office door open.
“Look, if you let me go, i’ll make sure you still have your job at the end of the day, alright?”
Emily scoffed, “As if you’re so important here, you’re just a small town no one who just happened to meet Miranda and kiss her ass all the way till–”
“Is there a reason you’re restraining my wife?”
Both assistant’s straightened their posture at the cool voice before they realized what she said.
Emily gaped, looking like a fish out of water while Andy looked more afraid of losing her job this time.
Miranda’s eyes were still where Emily had a grip on you and she glared at the redhead, “Let. Go. Emily.” 
The brit let your arm go as if your arm burned her and you grumbled as you rubbed your arm, trying to soothe the lingering pain of Emily’s grip. Behind the editor, Nigel looked as if he was about to burst out laughing at the girls’ faces.
“Now, how about some lunch my love?”
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merylstreepsworld · 4 months
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Imagine coming home to Miranda after being gone for work:
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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.
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merci-bitch · 5 months
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please write some headcanons with Miranda’s P!
Sure thing!
Absolutely love the Devil Wears Prada and Miranda is just <3
Not my gif!
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- Let’s say you’re a photographer for Runway
- And also Miranda’s
- You’ve been there for a while, a long while before Andrea
- You started as a photographer, Nigel found you
- Made you his new project to present for Miranda first
- You were shitting yourself obvs
- It’s thee Miranda Priestly
- You were quite shy, who wouldn’t be in front of the biggest fashion icon ever??
- But when you then later showed her your portfolio she was interested
- You were hired as the new photographer
- Working 24/7 like everyone else
- Emily liked you
- Quite a lot
- You were doing good, and Miranda liked your work, always left little notes on the side of the photos you’d taken
- You’d spent a lot of time together
- Nigel obvs played match maker
- Cocky bastard
- One night you came with the book, Emily had turned in sick at the last possible moment, so you offered
- You had a portfolio to show her either way
- So you went in, left the dry cleaning and then heard her call for Emily
- She was stunned to see you
- A little annoyed too
- It quickly went away as you handed her the book and portfolio
- And then the rest is history
- First time arriving when Andrea was her second assistant, well
- She didn’t know who you were
- Told you that you couldn’t just walk in without an appointment
- So you left with a little smile on your lips
- Went to Nigel, told him all
- Boy
- He was sure Andy was getting fired
- Despite her cold and strict attitude to the world, Miranda is a gentle lover
- When you’re at home, she calls you by pet names
- Darling, dear for example
- She’s still has a hard shell, but she’s ever so soft with her daughters and it is a wonder to witness
- Small touches as she passes you
- HUGE gift gives
- Obviously
- She absolutely loves how close you are with her girls
- Was such a relief when her daughters loved you as much as she did
- Of course Irv was fuming when he found out about the relationship
- Wanted to fire you
- Miranda stood her ground
- With backup from a lot of people
- Surprisingly the press was nice about the relationship
- Only after a few months of course
- The first few weeks was awful
- But it got better
- The internet calls you “power couple”
- You make her laugh like no other
- You really turned her world upside down
- Nigel is of course smug
- He is the reason you two found each other of course
- He likes to remind Miranda about it
- Likes to tease you about starring at Miranda
- You two just fit together like two puzzle pieces
- Of course there’s an age difference
- But it doesn’t define your relationship
- Miranda still does criticise you about your fashion choices
- Practically begs you sometimes to let her dress you in the morning
- Her children have better fashion sense than you do
- Loves to tease you senseless
- She knows she can make you weak to your knees with just one single glare
- She feels exceptionally powerful
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ctitan98official · 2 months
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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
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multimilfs · 1 year
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Miranda Priestly x Fem!Reader: Public People in Private
Summary: Miranda Priestly + 67 “Uh, am I interrupting?”
Prompts found here!
A/N: Miranda… my beloved. I need to rewatch this movie so bad, it’s been ages
Full Ficmas List
Tag List: @imtrashinflames @escapetodreamworld @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul
Warning(s): None
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“You can let me out here, Roy. I’m going up today.” 
“Are you sure? I had a… colorful message from Emily this morning.” Roy asks, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. 
“I’ll risk it,” You smile, “I might be able to help out. At the very least, I’ll distract her for a few minutes.” 
Roy nods and you step out in front of the Elias Clarke building. You weave through the crowds and inside without a hassle. The attendant stands up straighter upon seeing you, even after all this time. Nodding in greeting, he lets you through. 
The crowds seem to part as soon as you’re past the front desk. Tall, rail-thin models step out of your way, some even stepping out of the elevator when you get in. You want to shake your head at the treatment. 
It’s a short ascent to the Runway offices and you can see why Emily is so stressed. Models and staff scamper past, barely looking your way. The front desk is in shambles as several men in suits hound the receptionist. 
Milena, the poor girl, looks absolutely beaten. You check your watch and find you have a few minutes before Miranda is expecting you. 
“Is there something wrong here, gentleman?” You ask smoothly, stepping in beside Milena like it’s your rightful place. 
The tallest and meanest of the bunch turns on you. His suit is rumpled like he’s been tugging at it nervously, face red and splotchy with anger. 
Milena cuts in softly before he can throw anything your way, “They keep saying Miranda is expecting them, but they’re not in her schedule.” 
You pat her shoulder. 
“We do have an appointment!” He almost shrieks. 
You look him up and down, raising a brow. It shuts him up long enough for you to dial a familiar number. You hold up a finger to the men while the line rings. 
His fists clench at his sides. He looks like the lawyer type, which means he’s not used to being made to wait, let alone by a woman. 
“Miranda Priestly’s office.” Emily’s clipped voice comes down the line. 
“Hi Em,” You say sweetly, “I’ve got three men waiting with Milena, claiming they’ve got an appointment on the books. Is there anything in her schedule?”
“Of course not. She has lunch with you.” 
“That’s what I thought. Thank you, Em.” You return the phone to the cradle and give a sharp smile, “You’re not on the schedule, gentleman. I trust you know where the elevators are and if you’ve forgotten, security will be more than happy to escort you.” 
“I’ll have your job, Miss—” One of the other men says. 
You grin deviously, “It’s Mrs, actually. Mrs. Priestly.” 
All three men blanch. Milena tries to cover her grin as you step around the desk. She discreetly dials the security line, watching you with bated breath. 
The tallest doesn’t look so mean now. When you step up to him, he takes a half-step back. You almost regret Miranda not being here to bear witness; you learned it from her, after all. 
When the elevator sounds and the doors open, the head of security and two of his burliest men step out. Milena nods in the direction of the three men you’re staring down. Tearing your eyes away for a moment, you nod.
“Clark.” You acknowledge the head of security. 
“Mrs. Priestly,” He says, “Is there a problem here?” 
“No problem. These gentlemen just need some assistance finding the lobby.” 
Clark nods and his two men step forward and usher the red-faced men from Runway. You watch them go with a satisfied smile. Folding your arms over your chest, you turn to the man at your side.
“Do we know how they got up here?”
“Front desk says they had an appointment with Mr. Ravitz this morning. They must have come straight from his office.” 
Your lip curls, “Irv. Of course.” 
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” 
“That’s all, Clark. Thank you.” 
He leaves without further fanfare. You watch as he sends a warm smile Milena’s way. Her responding blush makes you pause. Interesting development, you think, trying not to let your thoughts show on your face. 
Collecting your bag and accepting Milena’s heartfelt thanks, you continue back towards Miranda’s office. You wince when you catch sight of a clock. You’re five minutes later than you should be, but all you can do is hope your wife isn’t too upset. 
Following the familiar pathway to the offices, you try not to shake your head when nearly a dozen models and staff members scare upon seeing you. Honestly, you think, I wasn’t nearly as bad as Emily. Must just come with marrying the Editor-in-Chief, you decide. 
Speaking of Emily, the brit is boredly explaining something over the phone. You offer a small wave and she sends you a surprisingly-genuine smile. 
Miranda isn’t alone in her office; you can hear her soft voice bickering with someone else. Peering in, you see Nigel standing in front of her, hands motioning this way and that as he explains something. 
Knocking on the office door, “Uh, am I interrupting?” 
Both look up. Miranda’s severe expression softens slightly. When she checks the watch on her wrist, her lips purse and you know you’re not getting away with your tardiness, but she doesn’t say anything about it. 
“Not at all, darling. Come in.” Miranda stands. 
You meet Nigel in the middle of the office and exchange air kisses. He pulls back and looks you over, nodding approvingly. 
“New boots?” He asks. 
“They’re last season, actually.” You say, then stage-whisper, “Don’t tell Miranda.” 
“Oh honey, I wouldn’t dare.” Nigel winks. 
He gives Miranda a small nod and takes his leave. You cross around the desk to accept your usual kiss on the cheek. She’s a little slower to grant it today and you lean back, raising a brow.
“You’re late.” 
“There was a situation at the front desk,” You answer easily, “I would have been early, but Milena needed the help.” 
“If she needs help doing her job then perhaps she’s better suited for employment elsewhere.” Miranda says. 
“You know that isn’t what I meant.” 
“Do I?”
“Miranda.” You glare, “If you fire Milena I’m going to be extremely cross.” 
She rolls her eyes. Pulling out a few paper menus, she hands them over, and you peruse today’s selections. Smith and Wollensky rests on top and you try not to laugh. Miranda always puts her preferred option on the very top, but lets you have the final choice. 
You could go for a steak. And you should probably tread carefully with your lateness. 
Handing over the Smith and Wollensky menu, she nods, looking pleased. She calls Emily in to rattle off your orders while you move over to the couch in her office. 
Emily takes the notes dutifully. You wonder where the new second assistant is, having heard some interesting murmurs about her over the past few days. Emily was suitably frustrated with her—as was Miranda—but Nigel and Serena had been a little more kind. She was out of her depth, but meant well, that was the final verdict. 
You hardly notice when Emily leaves until Miranda sits down next to you. Leaning back against the couch, she eyes you. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask. 
“Like what?” 
“Like you’re trying to figure me out.” 
Miranda chuckles, “Darling, figuring you out will take more than my lifetime.” 
“I can never tell if statements like that are a compliment or insult.” You narrow your eyes. 
“For you?” Miranda raises a brow and pretends to think on it, before her face softens infinitesimally, “A compliment.” 
“Miranda Priestly, are you going soft on me?” You tease, but lean into her space, “Imagine what that’d do to your reputation.” 
“I have.” 
There’s a look in her eyes you can’t decipher. You try not to think about it too much, stealing a quick kiss, trying not to badly damage her lipstick.
“So, tell me about today.”
You lean back and settle in for Miranda’s usual spiel about the incompetence of her employees, watching her fondly. 
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stayevildarling · 20 days
Text
Miranda Priestly x Wilhemina Venable x Reader - Dragon meets Purple, Part 2
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word count: 2k
tw: none
taglist: @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay,@whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson,@isle-of-earle,@paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime
A few months had passed since Wilhemina officially became Mirandas second assistant. And despite their initial doubts about whether this would work or not it was going surprisingly well. Due to Wilhemina's experience Runway was working smoothly. Miranda was quite surprised by this but she also enjoyed working closely with someone who was close to her age for once. The only person not enjoying the situation was Emily, as she was suddenly the one running around New York to fetch coffees and chase designers down, while Wilhemina had more administrative work.
Today a particularly busy day is finally coming towards the end, most people have left the office by now and so the only ones left are Wilhemina and her boss. As the redhead sits at her desk, typing away at her computer, before getting up to walk to the printer, she sees Miranda standing in her office and signalling for Wilhemina to join her.
,,Care to join me for a drink Ms Venable?'' the slightly older woman asks.
Wilhemina raises an eyebrow, surprised by the invitation but at the same time intrigued.
,,Of course Ms Priestly, lead the way''.
Wilhemina watches as Miranda walks over to a golden drink trolley next to the sofa in her office. As she pours two glasses of scotch, Wilhemina can't help but look at her bosses features. Her jawline, the way her skirt complimented her legs.
,,I must admit Ms Venable, you have been rather impressive lately, I cannot deny your talents any longer'' she praises which takes the redhead by surprise.
Of course she knew the value of her work but she knew Miranda wasn't one to praise. As she takes a sip, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips ,,High praise coming from you Ms Priestly, I must be doing something right''.
Miranda chuckles softly ,,Indeed, though I must also confess your penchant for challenging authority can be rather... infuriating at times''.
Wilhemina raises her glass in mock toast before replying ,,Ah but where's the fun in playing by the rules Ms Priestly? Life is too short to be confined by limitations''.
Miranda simply smirks with a glint of adoration in her eyes. This had been exactly what she liked about Wilhemina, the sass, honestly and sarcasm. It was refreshing to the woman with assistants that usually obey her straight away and never talk back to her.
,,Spoken like a true maverick Ms Venable, perhaps there is hope for you yet'' Miranda replies with a smirk.
The smirk meets her straight back before Wilhemina counters ,,Perhaps Ms Priestly but don't hold your breath. I'm not one to change my ways easily''.
They chat for some more before they both head back towards their desk, wrapping up their work for the day and working through the upcoming Paris schedule.
-------
,,One more thing before we go to Paris, I'm promoting one of you''. Miranda explained. The office was quiet now, it was late and everyone had left.
,,Ms Venable I would like to offer you a higher position in HR'' Miranda explained, Emily's jaw dropping, in disbelief of the words she just heard from her bosses mouth.
,,What?!'' Emily asks. ,,She's only been here for six months, how come she's getting the promotion?''.
,,Oh get over yourself Emily, we both know that Ms Venable is way more qualified to work upstairs and have her own office rather than being my assistant''. her boss replies snappily.
,,I suggest you start working on finding me a new second assistant'' Miranda explains, dismissing Emily.
,,Thank you Ms Priestly'' Wilhemina finally speaks, a bit dumbfounded at what just happened. She had worked hard in the past couple of months, however she didn't expect a promotion.
,,May I ask why?'' Wilhemina adds.
,,Well, I had a feeling from the start you were meant to be more than an assistant and you certainly have proven you have the abilities to work upstairs. So I pulled some strings and you may work in HR from now on. You will get your own office and you won't have to- you know- run around as much for me'' Miranda explains, suddenly a softer side showing that Wilhemina hasn't gotten to see yet.
,,Thank you Ms Priestly'' Wilhemina smiles, touched by the gesture, trying to think if there was some ulterior motive to her decision.
,,By the way, I think it's time you call me Miranda by now, considering I won't be your direct boss anymore''.
,,Very well- Wilhemina'' she replies with a small smile. Now Miranda surprised as she hasn't seen a real smile from the redhead so far, being able to tell the difference from a fake polite one to a real one as she had do it most of her day.
They shake hands before they both head off, Wilhemina to inspect her new office and Miranda back to her desk, looking over her Paris schedule one more time. Miranda internally cringes as she hates the feel of Wilhemina's leather gloves.
After the elevator dings, Wilhemina steps into her new office, a small smile playing on her face as she sees her name on the door. She is quite fascinated by the view of New York and the size of her office. As she walks to her new desk, she finds a little box.
As she undoes the ribbon, she finds a purple pair of Chanel gloves inside them. She chuckles before collecting her things for the day and leaving.
As she heads downstairs to the elevator that exits the building she halts in the hallway as she sees a little light still in Mirandas office. ,,Good Night Ms. - Miranda'' she states as Miranda takes her eyes off the screen and looking at Wilhemina. She smirks satisfactiory as she sees the purple gloves already on the redheads hands. ,,Good Night'' she mumbles before carrying on with her work.
-------
Miranda sighs as she walks out of her office and towards the elevator, some files in her hand. Making her way upstairs, she suddenly notices the light still lit in Wilhemina's office. Miranda checks the time and realises it's past midnight. She thinks about turning back around, having dealt with too much interaction today but also needing those applications on Wilhemina's desk as it had been months since Paris and Emily still hasn't found a worthy second assistant.
Miranda knocks and opens the door in one swift motion finding Wilhemina on her computer. ,,Hire this one, Emily is taking far too long'' Miranda states before handing Wilhemina an application file.
They both look at each other for a moment, brown eyes meeting green ones. Silence filling the room as the same question played on both of their minds. ,,Do you need me to help out downstairs?'' Wilhemina breaks the silence first. ,,Pardon?'' Miranda questions.
,,I mean it's been months since Paris and if you need any help I would be quite happy to'' Wilhemina explains and is met with a sweet smile. ,,No- I'd just appreciate if you work through the application as quickly as possible''. Miranda replies with a grateful smile.
,,Why are you here so late?'' Miranda eventually asks. Wilhemina simply looks at her unable to really give her an answer but Miranda understood even without a word. She knew being a woman in this industry, the position not necessarily mattering, you had to get used to long hours in the office.
,,Do you need a lift? my driver should be outside.'' Miranda asks which takes Wilhemina by surprise. ,,No thank you Miranda but I'll walk out with you?'' she questions before being met with a nod and grabbing her bag and cane.
The elevator ride is quiet, Miranda containing a smile as she notices that Wilhemina had worn the Chanel gloves since she gave them to her. As they both walk past security and outside the building. New York being lit up and loud even in the middle of the night. Miranda walks over to her driver before she turns back towards Wilhemina.
,,I know this isn't exactly part of your job description but would you be free to join me for the launch dinner tomorrow evening?'' the question doesn't only take Wilhemina completely by surprise. Wilhemina had heard about the dinner and how much Miranda despised half of the people there. She doesn't quite understand why Miranda would like her company rather than Emily who certainly has more knowledge with these sort of things. Wilhemina had no idea that she had become a sense of comfort to Miranda, the usual strong woman, feeling safer in Wilhemina's presence. The question slipped her mind before she could think about it. Wilhemina being the stern HR she usually is, her mind takes her back that indeed this had no part in her job description but she felt intrigued. The last year in New York had helped the redhead realise that she didn't really have a personal life and she longed for one. So somehow as a result, a spontaneous Wilhemina comes to the surface, breaking through her usual high walls and agreeing. Miranda gives her a small but confused smile at her own question before making her way home.
-------
,,This will be your desk, you have big shoes to fill so please don't mess this up, considering Miranda chose you''. Emily explains as you listen to her instructions.
,,Understood'' you nod as you get familiar with your desk and computer.
The first couple of hours are quiet as Miranda was with a designer, presenting a new collection with Nigel. You walk around runway, getting to meet people you will be working with from now on before returning to your desk and working through the to-do list Emily has given you.
,,Miranda will be back in about thirty minutes, I'll send you a text with everyones coffee orders, please run to Starbucks and hurry up''. Emily explains.
Quickly, you grab your things and do as you are told, returning a short while later with the coffees.
After placing Miranda's coffee on her desk, you return to your own before Emily returns as well.
,,I have a coffee left for Wilhemina?'' you ask unfamiliar with the name.
,,Oh yes, remember the big shoes to fill? Well that's her, she works upstairs in HR now, please take it to Ms Venable'' Emily explains and you nod as you walk towards the elevator. As the elevator dings your eyes are met with Miranda.
She halts, recognising your face from the application. You had done your research, knowing not to directly address or bother Ms Priestly but her lack of movement and conversation, ushered you to make some.
,,Hello Ms. Priestly, my name is Y/N your new second assistant'' you introduce yourself before she takes her sunglasses off.
The woman scans you a second with a surprised look on her face. ,,Oh you are the assistant'' she states.
,,I was told you hired and chose me'' you reply slightly confused. The woman simply carries on scanning your body before replying ,,That's all'' and leaving towards her office.
Slightly dumbfounded and confused you make your way upstairs before knocking on Ms Venable's door.
,,Come in'' the redhead replies as you enter.
,,Hi, my name is Y/N, I'm Miranda's second assistant, I have your coffee here for you'' you explain before bending slightly, placing it in front of her.
,,Thank you'' she states and you can't help but notice her staring at you, specifically as you bend over slightly to hand her the coffee.
,,Oh and if you have any issues, for example with Emily, don't hesitate to come find me'' she states.
,,Why would I have any issues with Emily Ms Venable?'' you ask confused, considering its your first day.
,,Emily can be a bit demanding, given her position in this company'' Wilhemina replies .
,,Very well thank you Ms Venable'' you reply before heading back towards your desk, unbeknownst that her eyes followed until you left her office.
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ofc-fics · 11 months
Text
And the Bitch Howled Beneath the Dragon (Miranda Priestly)
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Today was the worst. You knew it from the start. You’d awoken to the delight that you had started bleeding at some point and bled of course, through your underwear and pants, right onto the sheets beneath you. You were equal parts mad and relieved you’d just done laundry because that was the only reason you had a flat sheet on the bed. With a mattress protector too, no blood reached the mattress itself. 
So, you washed the sheets and went to work, prepared to pretend nothing was wrong with the world or basic anatomy. 
You spoke to few people on your way up to the Runway level of Elias-Clarke's headquarters. You set the boiling cup of Starbucks on Miranda’s desk and exited back to your own, in the position of second assistant to the Editor-in-Chief. You quickly set to work and deftly handled phone calls. 
Nigel and Serena stood in the hall outside, gaping at you. “What do you think is...?”
“Well, she’s clearly....” Nigel went to respond. 
But a certain redhead pranced her way down the hall. “Why are we lingering about?” the Brit demanded, making her presence known as only she could. 
“Don’t pretend to be Miranda, Emily. You’re not nearly intimidating enough,” Nigel quipped before his phone rang. He nodded twice, despite the other person not being able to see. He nodded one more time and hung up. He leaned back and shouted, “Alright, everyone, man your battle stations!”
You looked up briefly before taking a swig of your own coffee from Starbucks. The phone started ringing so you took care of that. You slipped your feet back into the shoes under your desk and made sure your neckline was straight. You didn’t stand or acknowledge Emily when she entered the inner sanctum. 
That made the ginger frown, but she sat at her desk, at least unbothered by your constant niceties. She logged into her own computer and checked the schedule. “When did Barry schedule a-?” 
“About twenty minutes ago,” you cut her off snippily. “How about you let me do my job.”
Emily laughed like she couldn’t believe you’d just said that. Or anything but your usual timid responses.”You know Miranda hates last minute-”
“I also know she needs his approval for live lemurs and Miami blue butterflies to be loaned from the zoo for the black and white photo-shoot. Let. Me. Work.” You leaned partially over your desk, biting back a wince. “...In peace.” 
The British woman stared at you in shock, but said nothing. She turned to her screen, and quietly did her job. 
The elevator at the end of the hall dinged and you took a gulp of your own burning hot coffee. You sighed and opened an email which informed you Miranda’s matching fedora set was all sewn and made. Emily ran to meet their boss, obviously having expected you to do so. 
Miranda was chewing the girl out as they walked back down the hall and Emily winced and took it, trying to transition some blame to the second assistant. Miranda wasn’t having it. She reached your desk and stared expectantly. She wanted her fresh coffee, for you to have met in her the freaking elevator to give it to her then to teleport back out because no one shared an elevator with Miranda. She wanted her way and all obstacles out of it. 
You sympathized. “It’s on your desk,” you informed her blatantly. You turned back to your computer, absentmindedly waving your hand at her, in a very Miranda-like way to tell them to go on. You held your hand out for your instructions.
Miranda raised her eyebrows at you, but continued in that direction. 
Emily tore the list in half and gave you the bottom one. “You stay in the dungeon with the dragon. Be one for all I care, be chow; you’re asking for it. Make sure the phones are manned and don’t let Stephen through security. And don’t-”
“Emily. Charlton,” you warned. Dark, rageful eyes flicked up at her. They were another warning.
The ginger took it and turned away. 
“And check your email.”
She was gone quite soon and you were finally left in peace in the office. You forwarded your notice on the skirts to Emily. She could do all the running today. Emailing and making calls was the easiest part of the job. 
Dealing with Miranda alone was the hard part. “Emily,” came the call from the main office. 
You took a deep breath, knowing she wouldn’t bother to correct your name once entering. “Yes, Miranda.”
“Where are my formatting samples and what has made you such a delight today?” Her equally dark eyes, you could never decide if they were blue or green, travel you up and down, as if she could see whatever ailed your mind. She was truly enjoying the her-like aura you were giving off. You’d worked for her for months and, while occasionally emotional, you were never intimidating except with Irv. And that took some pushing. 
“Josh called and said you fired the guy last night and he didn’t get notification until he walked in today; and none ya.”
A smirk flickered across the platinum haired woman. “That’s all,” she sighed out, her voice soft as ever. 
You were watched all day. By pretty much everyone on the floor, as you commanded anyone in your way and managed anything which bugged you. It delighted Miranda, Emily felt out of control because she’d never managed half the changes you’d initiated and she’d every one you had, Nigel was a bit miffed when you stepped on his toes, but everyone was put off by you. You somehow managed to throw off the heart of Runway. Nigel would imply you had become in integral part, Emily would vehemently argue the opposite.
You were in pain. The first few days of your period always hurt most. 
Halfway through the day, you were instructed to tell Josh to void the formatting. She wanted the Book. The last stage was just a formality, the last bit of control Miranda could muster before putting it all together and being monumentally disappointed. But, if they were behind, as they were, she would negate it all together. She trusted you would bring it to her 
You fumed at having to stay late and not being able to return home to your heating pad and ibuprofen at a reasonable time. You tried to dry swallow a few, but you were terribly dehydrated at work. Manning the phones and ‘handling’ Miranda took talking, and you couldn’t leave the phones to get water because Miranda didn’t like the volume above 7 and your OCD kept it at 6 or 5 if you you were right there. The one time you had to take care of your hygiene, you tried to swallow a mouthful of water that wasn’t bloody or soapy. But you had to get back to the desks. You were frustrated and in pain and unable to help yourself until lunch. Emily finally walked in the door, skirts on one arm and scarves on another. She had paperwork under her arm which you took and went over as she babbled about the million things that happened as she ran about. 
You listened patiently, writing down what changes Miranda needed to be informed of. You hissed, both at what you knew would be a blood clot later and what you knew would be a shitstorm later. “The skirts... have blue in them?”
Emily scoffed. “Some hick down in communications with Ralph Lauren told the rep the plans for the shoot, including the hopes for...” She held out a hand. 
You threw down your pin. “Miami blues.” You put the heels of your hands on your forehead. “They’re grey!” 
The Brit cast her gaze in the Dragon’s Lair and sighed at it being empty. “I know!” she yelped back, having lost some rage between there and coming back to Elias-Clarke. She took in a deep breath. “Alright. I’ll be back in-” 
“No, ma’am,” you cut in, standing. The phone started to ring and you walked away. The ginger dove for it, glaring at you. You raced to the bathroom and made it brief before running back to the desks. “Enjoy your lunch.” 
The rude redhead walked off with a groan, leaving you to pick up the phone once more. 
*
You’re lunch was a difficult affair. You’d only just finished your wrap you eat on the way to a walk-through, quite ironically, when your phone beeped and you saw it was moved up to... of course now. You didn’t bother with an actual lunch, prepared to write off this whole 15 minutes. You chowed down and slipped into the office silently. You took your seat out of the way and observed, taking note of the designers and colors to be brought together. You didn’t like the useless slips of fabric held by buttons. 
You slipped your notepad from your pocket, but your stomach cramped horribly and your hand fisted to keep from crying. You dug your nails into your palms to distract you from the pain. Your notebook fell to the ground. You sat back in your chair, refusing to draw more attention to yourself. 
About halfway through, one of the girls was tired of being poked at as she was every week or so. She decided to poke at you. “Pardon me, but I thought the second assistant was supposed to note the walk-through. Otherwise, why are we doing this?” 
Your eyes flicked up, leveling the woman- girl with your stare. “Oh, it’s the same as every walk-through. Jocelyn hardly has any accessories and Lucia brought floral outerwear for a black and white shoot. I’ll just swap out the designers on an old report,” you responded crisply. 
Emily blushed and covered her face with a folder. The two named women looked indignant until they saw the satisfaction on Miranda’s face. She’d apparently noticed much the same, but they were likely the best of all those she’d gone through. You pitied this magazine which had so much going for it, but Miranda did not guarantee winners every time. They needed true workers, but all they had were those who half-assed or couldn’t reach her standard. 
The rest of the walk-through was much more tame, the ladies doing their jobs without the slacking, showing they could as if it would show you. You genuinely didn’t care about them or their jobs. You would need to raid the staff kitchen for some of Emily’s crackers and cheese. You were still starving. 
And yet, the rest of the day inched by. A snail could’ve had kids by the time you were left along in the building. The kids had had kids by the time you had the Book. You picked up your car keys and walked downstairs, the stack of papers on your arm. Your car was easy to find as most employees took the subway or a taxi. You’d had your car from long before, and your savings account was for parking and any money needed for it. It was your saving for my car account. 
Miranda definitely didn’t drive, but her driveway sat there uselessly, until now. You pulled up the standard way and plucked her laundry from the hook in the back and the Book from the front. You unlocked the front door with ease, slipping in like a ninja. You hung up her laundry before hearing your name, called in Miranda’s soft voice, barely a siren’s whisper. You held the Book and followed the sound. Miranda was seated in the sitting room, two mugs on the table when you entered. “Ah good, have a seat.” You complied, slowly. 
“Yes, Miranda?” you asked, despite sitting right beside her. 
She took the Book from you gently. “How was your day?” she asked, setting it aside. Her powerful eyes, now currently ice blue stared as if they were only meant to stare at you. You diverted your own gaze, but laughed involuntarily. You sank back in the seat, letting your back relax and letting a hand fall to your stomach. You winced as the pain continued. “Oh.” And suddenly, it all made sense. Your firm attitude, needing everything a certain way. “Well, you made my day a breeze. Can we expect many more repeat performances this week?” she asked slyly, secretly needed super you again tomorrow. She wanted you to help manage the photo-shoot the next day and needed your no nonsense attitude again. 
You laughed again. “Just one more. My first two days are usually my worst.” 
A warm hand provided surprising comfort, trailing your forehead and pushing the hair from your neck. Miranda traced her fingers over the girl’s face and shoulders. She’d have to promote the girl from assistant based on the emotions she was feeling. You were a luxury she never wanted to go without, and not even just as her assistant. “Have you taken anything for it?” she asked, somehow making her voice softer and even more alluring. 
You shook your head. “I’ve been working to keep my insane boss happy.” 
A smile flickered across Miranda’s face, unused to banter. “Oh! ...she sounds like a handful.”
You looked up at her and smiled. “Oh, she’s worth it.” 
Miranda blushed lightly, pink on her ears and nose more than her make-up-ed cheeks. “Drink some coffee. I’ll get you a pain killer.” She stood. 
“I can just take something when I get home. I’d like-”
“I’ll hear nothing of it, dear. You’ve suffered long enough,” she called, but still kept her voice level. 
You barely held back a scoff. She returned to the sitting room to find you dozing on her couch. Your eyes opened when her footsteps were heard, and you sat up. Stammering, you took the pills as instructed. Miranda then engaged you in conversation, insisting you finish your coffee at least. “I’d like to know what you think,” she claimed, about the Book. She gave you a notepad you used as the page of the Book. Anywhere you saw something needed correcting, you wrote it on your book, where the mistake was. She had secretly slipped you some Tylenol PM, knowing it was far too late to be on the road and you were still half an hour from home, and it was - again - late. She noticed when they kicked in because your eyes grew glassy as your hands relaxed from the lack of pain. You both were nearly halfway done with the Book when your pen slipped from your hand, head swimming with exhaustion. 
Miranda picked up the pen and caught the notepad slipping from your fingers. You mumbled in a slur when she ran a hand over your face. “Come with me,” she ordered. She helped you stand and gestured you toward her staircase. 
“Y..s.... Miranda,” you mumbled in response, mostly dependent on her directions. 
She kept her hands on your sides to help keep you standing as you went upward. The woman settled you on her bed, idly wondering if she should’ve asked your permission before practically drugging you into staying the night. She probably should have led with, she now had the impulse to fuck you into the mattress once you were able. Legally, she needed you in another department before your menstrual ended. For that night, she wasn’t letting you leave her room. You were slumped sideways, face burred in her bedspread, sleep taking you. 
Miranda got you changed and checked your underwear before settling you into her bed. A hand moved over the back of your head, the blonde falling asleep beside you. She spent the evening taking care of you, then tucking you into bed with her. She stayed up, finishing her work on the Book before turning the light off to lay with you. You had sleepily shifted over to press directly against her, sucking up her warmth, and she couldn’t be more pleased. “Goodnight, dear.” You didn’t respond. 
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rippersz · 1 year
Note
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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no-phrogs-in-hats · 3 months
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Thinking about adding Miranda Priestly to my masterlist.
Would you guys be interested in that?
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russian-soft-bitch · 1 year
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The Catch
Miranda Priestly x reader
Warnings: not healthy diet, fainting
Requested by: anon. Miranda Priestly and f reader...reader faints into the arms of a very very shocked and concerned Miranda Priestly, her boss.
A/N: SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!!! i was feeling down lately because of everything that happens in the world now. I hope you like it even if it's super short!
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Entering the door to Runway you felt the same wave of nausea again; all the preparations to the Paris fashion week also included losing some weight. You looked good, sure, but still a little too ‘not skinny’ enough. Even comparing to Emily, you were bigger and it made you a little insecure.
You knew those insecurities would be there in your mind the moment you sighed the contract, but you never expected the changes in you to be so big. You always loved fashion, learned about it since you were but a little girl. Sadly, you had the opportunity to learn about its cruelty only in your current age.
You skipped your breakfast again, only had a cup of coffee that didn’t really do anything to the hunger you felt. Nothing could take your mind off it for the past couple of days, which was rather annoying.
Making your way to your boss’ office, you smiled a little to the girls you actually chatted with, waved to Nigel, tried not to bump into anyone you didn’t like and finally ended up in Miranda’s office. She wasn’t there yet, so you and Emily had some time to prepare for the fitting. Everything was already ready for it, people running around the small space.
You put a glass and a bottle of mineral water on Miranda’s desk and stepped to the side, just taking a few minutes to breath. Once Miranda is here, you won’t have time for it.
When the work began, you started to feel yourself even worse. All that talk, Miranda’s sour mood, everyone except her and Nigel being extremely annoying – it all got to much. You looked worryingly at your watch, realizing that the moment when you would be able to eat was too far away. Miranda shot a look your way and you were there near her immediately. While you were taking quick notes of what she wanted, you suddenly felt your knees giving out. Before you could react, everything gone black.
The nearest person to you was quick to react and managed to grab at you before you hit the floor. That person just happened to be Miranda. No one, not even her, knew why exactly she did that; it was probably some sort of reflex, and it didn’t last long, she was already putting you down on the floor, but she made sure that it couldn’t injure you in any way. The ambulance was on its way, but you had yet to come to your senses. Miranda started to worry; she took a liking to you. You reminded her a lot of herself when she was your age; confident, strong but also a workaholic.
The first thing you heard was Miranda telling the crew to hurry that damned ambulance. You took a deep breath and slowly moved yourself to a sitting position, noticing that someone moved you to a small couch your boss had in her office. Hearing your quiet ‘What happened?’ Miranda turned around to look at you and took a breath she didn’t know she was holding. After looking at you watch, you started to apologize for keeping everyone from work, but Miranda stopped you, saying that they could continue this with Emily and that you should go to the hospital.
You did exactly that once the ambulance arrived. You diet was over that day, you couldn’t allow for that to happen again. When you saw Miranda again, she complimented you on the color of your face (“You don’t look like a ghost anymore, good”) and your ability to work as if you took a month-long vacation.
After her famous ‘that’s all’, you wanted to go but stopped yourself and turned around to look at her again. “I wanted to thank you… for catching me. It was unexpected, otherwise I’d do anything to stop that. I…um… I appreciate it”. And before she had time to react, you left the office, missing a small smile on her face.
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zeldas-cigarrette · 5 months
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Trying to come back:)
I haven’t been myself in a long time, I’ve lost interest in things I loved doing (like writing, and coming up with fun ideas for new fics). Slowly, I think I’m coming back to enjoy it again. I was totally out of energy to follow requests I’ve got or even come up with my own ideas to write. So I stopped. I missed sitting in my room and writing for hours on end, fussing about little details I loved putting in my stories. Honesty is important, especially when I want to continue this. It’s the end of October and it might be the season, which made me passionate about starting to write again, but I desperately want to get into it again.
With this post, I’m trying to officially come back to this community. So I’m inviting you to send requests again, this is my masterlist, and I hope I can measure up to how I wrote back then and maybe even improve.
Thank you to those who still read my stuff, even though I haven’t posted in ages.<3
🩶
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kingpreciouswrld · 1 year
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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!
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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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merylstreepsworld · 6 months
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The Necklace
Pairing: Miranda Priestly x Reader
Summary: You are infatuated with Miranda's necklace... and for good reason
Word Count: 462
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In the intimate moments you shared with Miranda Priestly, her sense of style was as alluring as her commanding presence. She often wore low V-necklines that left little to the imagination, paired with exquisite, low-hanging necklaces that framed her décolletage. It was a combination that drew your eyes like a moth to a flame, and you couldn't resist the temptation to touch and play with the necklace that nestled between her breasts.
One evening, as you both lounged in her luxurious townhouse. Miranda was engrossed in a flurry of emails on her tablet, seemingly managing the entire fashion world from the comfort of her luxurious sofa. Her choice of attire was particularly captivating. Her V-neckline plunged gracefully, showcasing her elegant collarbones and a tantalizing hint of cleavage. The delicate necklace, adorned with a shimmering pendant, hung enticingly between her breasts.
You watched as she effortlessly juggled her responsibilities, her fingers dancing across the touchscreen with precision. The soft glow from the tablet cast an ethereal light on her features, accentuating her magnetic presence.
Unable to resist, you reached out and gently brushed your fingertips against the necklace, letting the cool metal caress your skin. Miranda's gaze never left the tablet, but her lips curled into a knowing smile, a subtle acknowledgment of your actions.
"Darling," she purred in her sultry tone, "Do you have an obsession with my necklace, or is it the territory it resides in that intrigues you so?"
Your cheeks flushed as her teasing words washed over you, and you replied with a playful smirk, "Perhaps it's both, Miranda. Your choice of jewelry is impeccable, but I can't deny the allure of what's beneath it." Miranda's laughter, like a fine wine, filled the room. Her fingers finally pausing on the tablet, she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "I find your fascination quite amusing, my dear. But you know, if you just wanted to touch near my breasts, you could simply ask." Your heart raced at her suggestion, and your fingers danced along the necklace once more, unable to resist the temptation. "Maybe I enjoy the element of surprise," you replied with a sly grin.
Miranda's eyes sparkled with desire as she captured your lips in a passionate kiss, her dominance and sensuality igniting a fire within you. The necklace between her breasts became a symbol of your shared desire and the playful teasing that only deepened your connection.
In those intimate moments, Miranda's style and your playful touches became a tantalizing dance, a testament to the passion and allure that bound you together. It was a love story where desire and teasing were woven into the very fabric of your relationship, creating an unbreakable bond between you and the formidable Miranda Priestly.
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merci-bitch · 4 months
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loved your Charlize characters things, but can’t you do somewhat the same with some of Meryl’s characters? Like how they are to live with or something
Thanks ! And sure, should be fun! Seems a bit short but oh well, haha
Not my gifs!
Miranda Priestly
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- Well
- She’s tough
- She’s a perfectionist at best
- Her house is very clean
- Even for having two near teenage girls
- She has a nanny for her girls who also cooks for them when she isn’t able
- Although I don’t think Miranda is the biggest cook, I do think she knows how to do it
- Her townhouse is MASSIVE
- 3 stories
- So many rooms
- You still get a little lost sometimes
- Not surprising though, there’s so many doors
- But Miranda wouldn’t be too bad to live with
- Unless she’s stressed and in one of those terrible moods
- She can be quite poisonous in her mouth
- Very critical
- You know not to fuel it at the worst times
- But you still like to pick at her
- Teaser
- 😌
Donna Sheridan
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- She’s so fun
- You, Sophie and her are dream team
- You were a painter , a local, and had known Donna for years, since Sophie was little
- You helped Sophie become good at drawing and painting
- And you just became a part of their little family
- Although Donna and Sophie still spend a lot of thing alone together, you don’t mind
- Dancing and singing all the time obvs
- You help Donna around the island, help her with renovating the hotel
- You remind her to take one day at a time
- You’ve painted the hotel a number of times, painted Donna and Sophie
- She loves it
- You have a lot of fun
- Sophie and you always team up against Donna
- Play little pranks on her
- When Sophie was younger, you’d tell her stories about the world and paint an image of what her world might look like
- The love Donna has for her daughter is so beautiful
- Donna often worries about how empty she will feel once Sophie leaves
- If she does
Jane Adler
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- Oh my god
- You are her experiment bunny for her new recipes
- She always tests new things in the kitchen
- And you are her critic for tasting
- She loves you dearly
- She loves how well you get on with her kids
- She was worried about the slight age gap
- How her children would react
- But they love you
- You’re a little older than her oldest
- So she doesn’t fell that bad, but still it’s different
- She kicks you out of the house when she has her dinner parties with her girls friends
- She gossips about you to them obvs
- One of her friends always tries to get her to talk about you in the bed
- Because Jane suddenly has so much energy she bakes three pies for one night
- Jane just smirks and doesn’t say a word
- Whenever Jane can’t sleep, she makes ice cream so your freezer is FILLED with ice cream
- You are left to eat it
- Not that you’re complaining, it’s the best thing ever
- Many late nights up
- Watching movies
- Taking baths together
- Getting high accidentally together
- That’s some funny shit
- Really
- She accidentally bought pot brownies
- The most hilarious thing ever HAHAH
- If you look away from the whole plot of the movie, but still stay on track
- She never slept with Jack
- She slept with you weeks before and you became a thing
- You filled the empty house with your laughter and her own and she doesn’t feel so alone anymore
The Witch
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- Well this is difficult
- Because you don’t technically “live” together
- And you’re not really together together either
- But when the plot happens, and she turn’s beautiful again
- Suddenly something happens
- You find yourself attracted to the witch you were told to fear
- She knows
- Of course she knows
- She enjoys feeling attractive, longed for, and everything once again
- When the big lady giant comes down from the sky, and she loses her daughter she seeks you
- Not for comfort
- But to release pent up anger for Rapunzel
- She knows she’ll come back
- Of course she will
- But seeing you tremble before her is too good to just let pass by
- So you become her little thing
- And then when the plot continues
- You were a friend of the bakers
- Everyone goes against the witch except you
- And oh how she enjoys it
- She’s seducing you
- She knows she doesn’t love you
- She loves her daughter
- But you’re a good distraction
- In the middle of all chaos she finds you by a tree as she’s looking for the boy
- Sneaks up on you
- Has a little fun riling you up only to be caught by the bakers and everyone else
- Whoops
- Your little secret is out
- Last Midnight
- And suddenly she’s gone
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ctitan98official · 2 months
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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.
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