𝑰 𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒀𝒐𝒖 {Mᴜʟᴛɪ-ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ Oɴᴇsʜᴏᴛs} (COMPLETED)

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆 (Male!Cruella De Vil x female!assistant!reader)

Yes, yes, yes!!!

Okay, so there may or may not be a teensy little age gap between you and Cruell. He'll be 32 and you'll be between 25. Got it.

Cruella's name will be Cruell.

🌱Dreary_October🌱
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Y/n's POV:

I hunched myself over my desk, one stiletto laying on the floor as the other dangled on my foot (close to falling) while I feverishly sketched away on my pad.

"Ms L/n,"

I looked over my desk, seeing my coworker, Genevieve, glowering at me, her lips in a tight smile,

"Yes?" I questioned, looking back down, continuing to sketch away.

"Mr De Vil wants to see you,"

"I'll be there in a few-"

"Right now," she cut me off sharply.

I winced, her voice ringing in my ears before I looked up, watching her as she sashayed away, her nude stilettos clicking against the tiled floors of our office.

I sighed, shutting my sketchbook and locking it up in my drawer. You couldn't trust anyone in this office and had to keep everything you made locked up.

I pulled my black stilettos on my feet, straightened out my pencil skirt and white blouse before I slowly made my way to my boss's office, Mr Cruell De Vil, the best fashion designer in the world today.

I don't recall how I ended up here, working for someone like him fresh out of college, but I was grateful. A part of me knew I wouldn't get a better job in the fashion industry than this, other than being his personal stylist but he was his own stylist anyway.

I entered the elevator, clicking on the '30' button as the elevator doors closed. My office was on the fifteenth floor.

My heels tapped against the floors, humming a song as I watched the numbers go higher and higher.

The elevator dinged, the number '30' displayed on the screen before the doors opened.

I walked down the deserted hallway, two huge red doors at the end of white hallway.

I stopped infront of the doors, knocking,"Mr De Vil?"

"Come in, darling," he called from the otherside.

I slowly opened the door, poking my head into the black, red and white themed office of my boss, searching for my boss.

The back of his chair faced me, his black and white hair peeking over the chair lightly as he was hunched over, smoking I guessed from the trails of grey fog that came from one side of the chair.

"All the way in, L/n," he spoke sternly.

I stepped in, hand on the handle as I closed the door, leaning against it.

"You needed something, Mr De Vil?" I questioned politely.

The chair slowly turned around, his light blue eyes locking with my e/c ones, cigarette in a red gloved hand, leg crossed over the other.

My breathe hitched, heart hammering in my chest as I stared at him.

It was no secret; Cruell De Vil was devilishly handsome. Beautiful even.

His black and white hair, sculpted jaw, high cheekbones, lush red lips and fair skin contrasted nicely against his black and white suit and fur coat he always wore, complimenting his lean yet muscular body.