Work Text:
Andy would never forget the moment she saw a gleam of something warm in Miranda Priestley’s eyes for the first time. Not condescension, not contempt, not irritation — but a brief, fragile flicker of relief. For a heartbeat, the woman’s sharp features softened, before the familiar gaze of steel slid back into place.
Only someone with Andy’s experience in reading the woman’s micro expressions could tell how shaken she was. Her manicured fingers clenched the brass doorknob, white knuckles standing in sharp contrast to the faint red blotches blooming at her neck and the almost invisible thumping of a vessel on her temple.
Miranda’s turmoil was subtle, but she might as well could’ve screamed in Andy’s face. For some odd reason, the thought of the other woman being just as unsettled comforted Andy, she wasn’t alone in this, the person on the other end of this was just as human as she was.
Clearing her throat, Miranda gathered herself before wordlessly taking a step back, gesturing Andy to enter, the expression on her face unreadable now.
+++
Inside, Andy noticed the little changes in the townhouses interior, a couple new vases containing flowers, a fresh coat of paint with a matching carpet on the hardwood floor, the mirror on the wall of the entrance hall exchanged for a landscape still life.
“You’ve hung some new art,” she commented lamely while Miranda remained rooted to the spot by the now closed door, like a statue displayed in her own home. She was staring at Andy as if asking herself whether it was too late to throw her out again.
She had yet to say a word, and it set Andy’s teeth on edge. While she had come with a speech prepared, the tension between them filled the entire hallway like a living, breathing thing, suffocating every word that dared to climb out of Andy’s throat.
“You look…well.“
Miranda’s voice was hoarse and clipped, her eyes fixed to a spot behind Andy’s head. Still, it was better than this oppressive silence.
“Thanks.“
The air that hung between them was heavy with awkward tension. Andy tried to heave up some words, anything to keep that fragile connection between them alive.
“I really like what you did with the carpet here.“
“Why are you here, Andrea?“
Cutting straight to the point, what a very Miranda thing to do, and delivered in the trademark icy fashion that made grown men tremble in their tailored suits. It certainly made Andy quiver with fear, not of the woman herself but of the power she possessed.
“I had to see you.“
“Did you now. How …fascinating.“
The Miranda that had opened the door for Andy, her eyes filled with honest, unguarded astonishment, was gone, and in her place, cashmere clad arms crossed in front of her body, was the ice queen.
“What could’ve possibly possessed you to barge on my door unannounced? Was it your plan to waste my precious time by aimlessly lingering around in my foyer?“
Andy tried to answer , to untangle the jumble of emotions that had resided in her chest ever since she’d first gotten close to the woman in front of her. But her throat constricted under the weight of it all , the heaviness, the implications that came with laying bare her darkest, most carefully hidden secret to its very subject.
Miranda let out a exasperated sigh, and if it wasn’t for the slight tremor in her hands and voice Andy could’ve mistaken her annoyance for indifference. But no, she was just as affected by this, but only one who could spot the cracks in her seemingly impenetrable armor was able to tell. Andy could.
“Oh, for heavens sake, Andrea, just-"
“I miss you.“
There it was. Andy had hurled her truth at Miranda’s feet, and there it lay now, with the woman throning above it, her steely gaze fixed on her former assistant. She opened her burgundy colored lips to deliver what was surely to be another deadly retort, but Andy felt like those three words had been the cork on the metaphorical bottle.
Now that it was in the open, everything it had previously contained for years was pouring out of her like a raging river of word after word after word.
“I feel like all of this had just been one gigantic mistake, a knee jerk reaction I was too scared to take back. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for abandoning you in Paris, I’ve been a fool. And a coward. I thought could emancipate myself from you, and from the whole world of Runway, just by pretending to have the moral high ground. But all I really did is deny myself, not only of the elegance and luxury that came with the job, but of a true connection, of you.“
+++
Miranda Priestly wasn’t a woman easily shocked, not just because showing unpreparedness would be a display of weakness, but because she usually had every move already plotted in her head, her social and professional universe unfolding like an elaborate game of chess.
But this, this young woman barging into her sanctuary and spilling out her pent up emotions wasn’t something she had anticipated.
In the movie that was Miranda’s life, Andrea had played either no role at all for the past year, or that of a cold, calculating villain, one who had wronged her in the worst way imaginable.
But this evil creature that lived in Miranda’s mind, brimming with self-righteousness, ingratitude, and deceit, had nothing in common with the doe-eyed, trembling young woman who had just poured her heart out onto the Persian rug in the entrance hall.
It overwhelmed Miranda, an emotion she was neither familiar nor comfortable with.
And surely it was due to the generous glas of Merlot she had imbibed prior to the girl’s arrival that her eyes where involuntary darting to Andrea’s full lips and glossy hair while her brain was still processing the words she had just witnessed.
This was one of her wicked little fantasies about Andrea groveling, begging for her forgiveness, coming to life. And still, rejecting her, seeing the sting of disappointment and sadness on that beautiful face, suddenly didn’t seem as satisfying as it always had in her imagination.
She should play with her like a cat would with a mouse, taunt her with biting sarcasm and harsh, cruel words thrown into the cavity of the girls chest, the one she had opened just for Miranda. She should hurt Andrea just the way the girl had hurt her, and cast her asides afterwards.
But no, every fiber in her treacherous body was screaming at her that she should be the one to fall at Andrea’s feet instead, and tell her that she was lost without her, that she missed her just as ardently and that all happened between them didn’t matter anymore, because now she was back in Miranda’s grasp.
Ever so slowly, she began to close the distance between herself and Andrea, the young woman looking like a deer in the headlights as she came face to face with Miranda. Her body was moving on autopilot, and she wasn’t quite sure what it would come up with once it had reached its destination.
“A real connection, huh? But I was merely your employer, Andrea, wasn’t I?“
The girl stuck her lower lip out defiantly, a flicker of hurt in those big brown eyes that almost made Miranda thaw. Almost. But she needed this, needed to pry every ounce of truth out of her former assistant before she decided what to do with it, with her.
“You know just as well as me that that’s not true.“ Andrea whispered, her gaze cast downwards on the tips of her leather boots. Ralph Lauren, Miranda recognized instantly, their soft material the almost exact same color like Andrea’s eyes.
She needed them on her, she decided, sliding two long fingers underneath the girls chin to tilt her head upwards, slowly, until their eyes met. It was a gentle gesture, a sharp contrast to the following words.
“Then pray tell me what’s the truth. Use your words like a big girl, Andrea, you’re supposed to be a journalist after all.“
The urge to let her fingers wander upwards, let them slide over Andrea’s full lips, was almost overwhelming, and she had to force her body into submission before it acted on its own accord again.
The conflict was evident on Andreas face, the turmoil brewing inside her causing her brows to furrow, just like a storm sweeping across a field. But suddenly, the storm stopped, and the girls eyes widened ever so slightly, like she’d just had a stroke of genius.
And then, Miranda Priestlys heart stopped for the second time that day.
Because Andrea, that infuriating, faithless, beautiful, brilliant girl, was kissing her. And the tight leash on which Miranda had held herself for as long as she could remember, was snapping.
She wasn’t sure how often she had imagined those lips on hers, these little breathless whimpers as she led her hands wander over the soft wool of Andrea’s coat, cupping her behind through the thick fabric to pull her closer. In those dark, stolen moments in the privacy of her bedroom the imaginary Andrea had melted against her just as beautifully as the real one did.
And now, the carefully constructed building of images and longing, barricaded by a thick wall of icy resistance crumbled under the young woman’s passionate touch.
She wanted to put her claws into Andrea and swallow her whole, every inch of flawless, peachy skin, every honeyed smile, until those plump lips were only able to utter one word and one word only.
Miranda
Miranda
Miranda
+++
When she was eleven, Andy had partaken in a gymnastics competition. She had practiced for weeks until she could do her routine on the bars with her eyes closed, right to the jump dismount at the very end, a safe, sensible finish.
But then, at the competition, during the last seconds of her performance, she had intuitively decided to do the tucked-back salto instead, and stuck the landing perfectly. Her coach as well as her parents had scolded her for being to daring, for making a rash decision. She had won first place that day.
Still, those words of reprimand stuck with her all through adulthood, always nudging her carefully but insistently down the safe path.
She had never developed into a particularly daring person, but would always remember the thrilling rush as she spiraled through the air. Kissing Miranda felt just like that, like flying, like a firework, like a tucked-back salto off the bars.
The woman had demanded truth, and this was the rarest truth Andy could bring herself to give. This truth was on her lips, on her tongue that was sliding against Miranda’s in a delicious dance, it was on her hands that were desperately tugging on the soft cashmere sweater beneath them, it was in her heart almost jumping out of her chest.
She had missed, she had regretted, she had yearned, and now, as she was kissed back with just as much vigor as she dashed out, the realization that it hadn’t been in vain spurred her on even more. She wasn’t aware of her coat falling to the ground, but she did notice Miranda’s hands wandering under her sweater, blunt nails scratching deliciously down her back.
“Say my name.“ the other woman’s breathless voice whispered against her bruised lips, and Andy uttered it like a prayer, over and over again as Miranda maneuvered the two of them up the stairs of the townhouse, leaving a trail of strewn designer clothes in their wake until they reached the master bedroom.
The opulent, meticulously styled room, probably every interior designers wet dream, was totally lost on Andy as all her senses were taken up by the woman in front of her, the one whose soft, milky skin was pressed against her own, who carefully laid her onto the bed and looked down at her as if she was a five course meal from one of New Yorks finest restaurants.
“Let me see you, darling.“ Miranda murmured, and Andy complied, just as she always did, hastily reaching behind her to undo her bra, her nipples stiffening under Miranda’s scorching gaze.
“Completely, Andrea.“
She slid her panties off just as obediently, and almost whimpered as Miranda’s eyes wandered from her breast down to the trimmed patch of curls between her legs, already glistening with unrestrained want.
“Exquisite.“
Hearing such praise right from the person she had always wanted to impress most was pure aphrodisiac for Andy, and she moaned unabashedly while Miranda’s lips curled into a seductive smirk.
“Please, M-Miranda, can I touch you?“
The regal nod she received was encouragement enough, and when her hands finally cupped Miranda’s breasts, both woman couldn’t suppress a wanton sigh.
Andy’s lips wandered across the soft expanse of Miranda’s breast, down her abdomen until her mouth reached the hem of the other woman’s La Perla underwear, always spurred on by those low, breathless gasps her former boss uttered. Andy cast a questioning look upwards, and Miranda let her thumb wander across Andy’s lips in response, her breath hitching as the young woman sucked the digit into her mouth, her tongue caressing it before releasing it with a soft pop.
“Go on…please.“
Hearing the Miranda Priestly say please was the spark that set Andy’s whole body ablaze, and so she dragged the panties down those gorgeous legs and finally, finally buried her face between the other woman’s thighs, the fingers previously stroking her hair tightening to an almost painful degree as her mouth engulfed the other woman’s clit and started sucking.
Surprised by her own strength, she maneuvered one of Miranda’s legs over her shoulder, using the space she gained to let her fingers slide through the hot wetness right alongside her tongue.
“God, Andrea.“ Miranda moaned, her usually stoic face twisted to a mask of ecstasy as she ground her heat against Andy’s face. “Don’t you dare stop, darling.“
Andy would’ve rather jumped off a cliff than stop experiencing the heaven that was pleasuring Miranda Priestly. This was were she belonged, on her knees in front of this goddess of a woman, caught in rapture for ever and evermore.
When she slid one finger into the other womans tight heat, Miranda’s orgasm clashed over her in an instant, the thighs wrapped around her face quivering and tightening under her touch. Carefully, she guided the woman’s spent body onto the bed, wrapping her into her arms as she lay down beside her.
“Wow, that was amazing.“ Andy grinned, filled to the brim with endorphins just from witnessing Miranda reach her peak because of her . This guarded, aloof, brilliant woman was lying beside her, her skin flushed pink, covered by a thin layer of sweat, staring at her as if she just hung the moon and the stars. It was thrilling, addictive, irresistible, and Andy knew she could never go back now. She was Miranda’s now, body and soul, hook and sinker.
+++
No person, and certainly no man, had ever made Miranda felt that way. Former lovers had called her fridig, unfeeling even, and it hasn’t always been uncalled for. Loosing herself in another person had never come easy for her, the trust that was required to fully be with a person was as unfamiliar to Miranda as opening up about those difficulties.
But Andrea, all bright eyes and unguarded devotion, hadn’t let herself get deterred by Miranda’s cold demeanor, she had been stubborn and brave and oh so beautiful. Miranda, even with all her internal issues regarding the young woman’s trustworthiness, didn’t stand a chance against so much raw emotion.
Seeing the young woman on her knees, her brown eyes staring at Miranda as if she held the answers to all the questions in the world, had been just as arousing as her capable hands or skilled tongue. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Miranda could finally let herself go and just be. And what a wonderful, wonderful feeling.
She wanted, no, needed more.
She let her long, elegant fingers slide feathery soft over Andy’s body, tracing each delectable curve with her digits as if to memorize it, imprint it on the canvas inside her brain. Slowly, she got closer to Andreas sex, the young woman’s legs parting like an invitation, her hips bucking against Miranda’s hands in a desperate search for friction.
But now that the edge was taken off, now that the oxytocin was rushing through her system, Miranda was in no hurry.
One of her hands pinned Andrea to the bed while the other one continued its agonizingly light touches.
“Please, Miranda.“ Andrea groaned, trashing against Mirandas strong grasp in a futile attempt to grind her heat against something, anything.
Seing this beautiful woman so eager almost undid Miranda.
She decided to have mercy, and grazed Andreas sex with one of her fingers, her touch as light as a feather. The young woman let out a sob, her legs shaking, a thin film of sweat on her soft skin.
”You’re such a needy little creature, aren’t you, darling.“
“Y- yes, Miranda.“
Another stroke, closer to her clit but not quite there . Andreas eyes were wild as she murmured an unintelligible mixture of Miranda’s name and begging for release. It was intoxicating.
“Did you think about this, Andrea, about me touching you like this?“
”Yes, yes I did.“
Miranda circled Andreas swollen clit now, her finger just brushing against it softly, and tears started to well up in Andreas eyes.
“You’re not going to leave me again, Andrea, I won’t tolerate it.“ Miranda’s voice was hoarse, her eyes burning into Andreas as she finally pressed her thumb onto her clit, the sensation making the young woman howl and trash against the hand holding her down.
“Never.“ Andy sobbed, her voice breaking. “N-never again, Miranda. I promise. I promise.“
“That’s my darling.“ Miranda growled, pressing down just a little bit harder. Andy came on the spot, moaning and writhing, riding our wave after wave of bliss against Mirandas hands, while the woman peppered soft kisses to her temple until she came down from her high.
“Shh, I got you, such a good girl. You did so well for me, darling. I got you.“
Andrea burrowed her tear-stained face in Miranda’s side, clinging to her like she was drowning while Miranda held her and promised her that all was well now, because she was finally back where she belonged. The rest of their issues, their disagreements, it could all wait until tomorrow.
And when the young woman fell asleep in Miranda’s arms some minutes later, it almost felt as if the last fourteen months had been nothing but a bad dream.