Fic: Ugly Betty/ Devil Wears Prada - Wilhelmina/Miranda, R

[mooging]

This was written from a prompt from the femslash_todayporn battle, from missfoxie, so I hope she likes it!

Title: Lipstick Kisses and Red is Like Hate
Rating: R
Fandom(s): Ugly Betty / Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Wilhelmina/Miranda
Disclaimer: Neither is mine, sadly.
Summary: "Wilhelmina hates Miranda Priestly. She hates every manicured inch of her frame..."
A/N: From the prompt 'Miranda/Wilhelmina, Competition'. For missfoxie. Contains girl romps and...um...my criminally bad knowledge of fashion attempting to write fashion divas. Um. Well. Yes.

Wilhelmina hates Miranda Priestly. She hates every manicured inch of her frame, from her Christian Louboutin toes to her perfectly coiffured hair. She has always hated her.

They were interns together, both slogging their guts out at a leading magazine and applying fresh coats of raspberry red lipstick together in a badly lit women's bathroom, both pretending they could handle it and both drinking too much coffee.

Miranda was always that bit better. If there was a deadline, Miranda would have handed in her work the hour before Wilhelmina presented hers, a day before anything was due. If there was a pitch to be done, Miranda's glossy ideal would have been sold before Wilhelmina had put pen to paper. If there was time for a break, more often than not Wilhelmina would dash away and return to find Miranda immobile, back early or simply not going at all.

Wilhelmina hated Miranda Priestly.

Miranda could wear pointed shoes without getting blisters. Miranda could wear gossamer tights without snagging them. Miranda could wear any colour under the sun and look polished and groomed while Wilhelmina swore and cursed and spun the colour wheel again.

Miranda had the legs for skirts. Miranda had the waist for tailored blouses. Miranda didn't need to watch what she ate. Miranda has everything Wilhelmina had but just that bit better.

Wilhelmina kissed her once, on the rare occasion Miranda took a break, kissed her long enough to make them both dizzy and well enough to make them both want more. When she pulled away, lipstick smudged and colour in her cheeks, Miranda still looked untouched. She looked too long at Wilhelmina and walked away without a word.

Then Miranda fucked her, the two of them, alone, working over-time and Wilhelmina was bent over their boss' desk with two of Miranda's fingers twisting inside her and Miranda's hand just inside her blouse.

Wilhelmina should have hated that too.

Instead, she writhed and groaned and came with Miranda's thumb on her clit and Miranda's breath on her back and Miranda's breasts nudging against her spine. She lay on the desk, gasping and sweaty, and turned around to watch Miranda slowly, deliberately, lick her fingers clean.

She has never hated Miranda more than in that moment.

Wilhelmina tugged her skirt down into place and seethed, the raspberry red of Miranda's mouth a mocking pout of superiority and tempting her, tempting her on.

She grabbed Miranda's hair and pulled, tugging her back until it was Miranda's back on the desk, Miranda's eyes steadily gazing up, Wilhelmina's leg between hers.

"One day," hissed Wilhelmina, "One day, I will be the best."

And she kissed Miranda hard enough to bruise, and Miranda's lipstick smudged.

Wilhelmina hates Miranda Priestly (head of Runway now, and glamourous like no-one else).

Miranda drips privilege and right like the most expensive of jewels and Wilhelmina is still that step behind.

*

Meanwhile, I didn't say anything at the time (a combination of forgetfulness and lack of access to a computer) but it was the proper Miranda's birthday on Saturday: Happy (late) Birthday goes to the ever-amazing Miranda Richardson!

Comments

[missfoxie.livejournal.com]

EXACTLY WHAT I WANTED IT TO BE.


*squishes you* I love this. I love the tone. I love that Wil is always that step behind.

[mariannesquee.livejournal.com]

Love it. Yum.
These two are an obvious crossover methinks, but this wasn't an obvious fic; t'was kinda dark, which is great.