Fic: A Minor Setback | NC17 | The Devil Wears Prada | Miranda/Andy
Title: A Minor Setback
Author: UbiquitousMixie
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Disclaimer: Miranda and Andy belong to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox.
Summary: Andy surprises Miranda at work.
Author's Note: Working as a substitute teacher for eleven year olds has pretty much killed my brain in all the wrong ways, so here's my attempt to get back into the land of the living…for adults, anyway. I suppose I may have overcompensated…hopefully you don't mind.
Thanks to ellipsisoveruse for keeping my writing insecurities at bay and for proofreading. You're amazing. This is dedicated to her, kitnkabootle, and rhiannonsbirds. I hope you all enjoy....please comment!!
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Miranda pressed her fingers to her temples, massaging at the throbbing tension headache that had settled within the past few hours. Darkness had fallen over the city and cast dark shadows about her office, but she couldn't be bothered to turn on the lights. The glow from her laptop illuminated the hundreds of photographs of samples in front of her and she wondered with a sneer if she'd make it home before midnight.
"Miranda, is there--"
Miranda held up her hand and glared over the rims of her glasses at her second assistant. "Just go."
"What about--"
"I said go. Your presence is no longer required."
The girl looked as though she were ruminating over a question, so Miranda deepened her glare. With a squeak the girl turned on her heels, fetched her things, and left.
She shook her head. This one would be lucky to last the week.
Miranda was glad for the quiet. She knew only a few employees remained in the building and, luckily for them, they were located on the opposite end of the office. Even the sound of breathing was irritating at this particular moment.
At least now she could work in peace.
She held up two photographs and pursed her lips. This season's accessories were abysmal at best and it was up to Miranda to select the few in the lot that wouldn't taint the pages of the magazine.
Too bad she couldn't fire designers. Her daughters could put together a better collection of jewelry.
Her temple pounded at the distant ping of the elevator.
Licking her finger, Miranda leafed through a stack of papers. She was so absorbed in finding a memo from Zac Posen that she didn't notice that she wasn't alone until a figure cleared her throat in the doorway.
She looked up to see Andrea's brightly shining face. "Now's not a good time."
"It's nice to see you too, Miranda."
"Forgive my lack of manners," Miranda added, pulling the needed piece of paper from the bottom of the pile. "I'm surrounded by a gaggle of incompetent idiots and am therefore hours behind."
"I guess so. You missed dinner."
A surge of guilt pooled in Miranda's gut. She attempted to read the young journalist's face for any sign of disappointment but, as usual, Andrea appeared good-natured. That did little to assuage the guilt; this was the second dinner she missed in as many weeks. "I'm sorry, Andrea," Miranda said quietly.
"Thus is the plight of being Miranda Priestly's lover."
"You deserve better."
Andrea rolled her eyes and walked forward slowly, as if allowing Miranda to size her up. She wore a pair of smart dark brown slacks, a white button down blouse, and a leather jacket. She'd even discarded her typical Doc Martens for a pair of D&G stiletto boots. "I'm sure you can make it up to me."
"Are you free this weekend?"
"I was thinking more along the lines of tonight."
"Andrea."
Andrea perched herself against the glass desk, looking slyly down at Miranda. That look on her face was strikingly familiar and a warmth settled in the pit of her belly.
"I told you tonight is impossible. I can't leave until I've finished this."
"I didn't say you had to leave."
Miranda sighed, her impatience tugging at her. She reigned it in, not wanting to dig herself into a deeper hole with her young lover. "Andrea."
"C'mere."
Miranda rolled her eyes.
"C'mon. You owe me. You stood me up and I'm totally on the verge of forgiving you." Andrea held out her arms, her long eyelashes batting playfully. "At least give me a hug, Miranda."
With a resigned sigh, Miranda pushed back her chair and stepped into Andrea's arms, curling her own arms around Andrea's waist. She rested her forehead against her lover's and whispered, "I'm sorry for letting you down."
"You missed out."
"On your company, perhaps. The restaurant is give or take."
"Ooh you missed out on much more than that." Andrea kissed her nose.
"Did I?"
"Mmhmm."
"Enough with the cryptic vagueness, please."
"Remember the conversation we had recently?"
"We have had many conversations."
"About our fantasies…"
Miranda swallowed. "Yes?"
"I had certain plans. You foiled them."
"What exactly had you planned, if I may ask?"
Andrea shifted her hips against Miranda's, kissing her lightly on the lips.
Miranda felt it.
A hardness brushed against her pelvis. She could feel her mouth go dry. "What is this?"
"What do you think it is?"
"You've been walking around with this all day?"
"Just a few hours. You like it?"
"Are you trying to tell me something?"
Andrea grinned and nipped at Miranda's bottom lip. "Only that I'm interested in having my hands and mouth free while I fuck you. You know how much I like to multi-task."
Miranda cleared her throat. "Indeed."
In one quick, deft moment, Andrea flipped them, pressing Miranda back against the desk. She stepped in between Miranda's legs, sidling close against her. Miranda gasped as she felt it brush against her heat. She groaned.
"You do like it."
"I don't dislike it."
Andrea smiled lasciviously, licking her lips before brushing her mouth teasingly against Miranda's. "I bet you're wet already."
Miranda leaned in to kiss her lover and was displeased when Andrea pulled back, pecking lightly at Miranda's cheek. "This is neither the time nor the place, Andrea," Miranda said, noting that her voice lacked conviction.
She had three memos to write, countless photos to edit, samples to categorize--the work would take hours, and yet her mind felt foggy. Miranda Priestly did not get foggy. She heard the crunch of papers beneath her fingers as Andrea kissed her so slowly that she felt it in her toes. Work didn't seem quite so important now…
Andrea's hands were everywhere - on her shoulders, in her hair, on her hips. She grasped Miranda at her waist, undulating her hips in rhythmic waves that Miranda found completely intoxicating. She felt the length of the shaft rock against her core and gasped.
This was a change. Miranda was usually the one wearing the harness. She preferred it that way. But this…she couldn't complain about this.
"You okay not being the top tonight?"
Oh Lord. They were actually going to have sex in the office. Miranda never tainted the sanctity of her office with sex. It was purely her workspace, a place of creativity and brilliance and--
Andrea slipped her tongue into Miranda's mouth, teasing it playfully against Miranda's.
"Mmm," was Miranda's choked reply.
"I've been thinking about you all day."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I was so disappointed when you didn't show up at dinner," Andrea said, pausing to suck Miranda's bottom lip into her mouth.
"You were…at the restaurant?"
"Something like that. I guess we'll never know."
"Brat."
"You'd have been rewarded for showing up."
Miranda frowned. "Must you continue to guilt me for missing dinner?"
"I must. You haven't made it up to me yet."
"Mind you, I haven't thrown you out yet either."
Andrea chucked and sat down on Miranda's chair. "I don't think you really wanna throw me out, Miranda."
"No one else has ever succeeded in seducing me in my office."
Andrea held up her hand. "So not the time to bring up the exes, babe."
Miranda rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. What makes you think that you'll be any different?"
"Because you want me to forgive you for forgetting about me." Andrea sat forward, shrugging off her leather jacket. She draped it over the arm of the chair and leaned back, unbuttoning her pants. Her fingers lingered by the zipper. "Plus, I've got something you want."
Miranda could already feel her sex weeping with want. She knew she wouldn't be dismissing Andrea. It would be impossible to get anything accomplished tonight until her hunger had been sated. She leaned forward, her eyes on Andrea's hands.
With agonizing slowness, Andrea's fingers pulled down the zipper, the teeth grinding quietly. Miranda held her breath, watching as a flash of dark red was exposed.
"See something you like?"
Miranda looked at Andrea's eyes then; the dark brown orbs sparkled with confidence. All signs of the awkward, shy young woman were absent. Discovering that this alter ego resided within her formerly timid-turned-exceptionally competent assistant was considered by Miranda to be a highlight of the early days of their relationship.
Andrea's hand slid down her abdomen and reached into her slacks, wrapping around the thick shaft and pulling it free. Her fingers lingered on the dildo, tracing lightly down the ridges before resting her hand on her thigh.
Miranda's legs shook as she stepped closer.
"Turn around."
Miranda raised an eyebrow.
Andrea only smirked. "Turn around and sit down."
Intrigued, irritated, and impossibly turned on, Miranda stepped to the side of Andrea's legs. As she turned to place her back to Andrea, she brought her right leg to the other side of her lover's and sat, straddling her.
Though she perched uncomfortably at the front of Andrea's thighs, Miranda's complaint was forgotten as Andrea's hands skimmed along her legs. She stroked her hot fingers up Miranda's thighs, scratching at the lace that trimmed her thigh-highs.
"I love when you wear these," Andrea said, pulling Miranda's thighs further apart. She grasped at the edges of the skirt, draping it around her legs and covering the strap on. "I thought when you put 'em on today that you'd done it to tease me throughout dinner."
Miranda's cheeks flushed with guilt once more. "Are you going to continue to bring this up?"
"Mmhmm," Andrea purred, licking Miranda's earlobe. She flicked her tongue at the dangling white gold earring and blew her breath across the sensitive spot behind her ear. "Now why don't you scoot back?"
Miranda shuddered and lifted her hips while Andrea's fingers reached beneath the skirt and brushed against her panties. Her hips jerked and she could practically hear the curve of Andrea's wide grin.
"So you are wet, huh?" Andrea asked as she hooked her index finger into the elastic, pulling it aside, exposing her sex. She brushed against her and Miranda threw her head back and groaned.
Using one hand to hold aside her satin panties, Andrea placed a guiding hand on Miranda's hip, pulling her back until Miranda was poised above the thick, red dildo. Miranda's sex clenched in anticipation.
Miranda eased her hips down, the tip pressing against her opening. She hissed; she was extremely sensitive here and as she stretched to accommodate the girth of the shaft, she knew she'd be sore in the morning.
Andrea's hands on her hips prevented her from taking it completely. The tops of her thighs burned as she held herself up in the awkward position and she squirmed, hoping to ease more of the silicone toy within her.
"Easy," Andrea whispered.
Miranda let out a grunt of frustration. She opened her mouth to protest, to snap, to say anything to prompt Andrea to stop this insufferable teasing. The wide tip pressed against her, the first ridge teasing against her opening.
"What's the rush, Miranda?"
"I--oh," Miranda gasped as Andrea shifted her hips, driving the dildo slightly deeper.
"You need this?"
"Yes," Miranda hissed. She hated to admit it. She was not a woman that appreciated having to admit to her needs but this…this game of Andrea's made her personal habits die quickly.
As the tension eased in Andrea's fingertips, indicating that she could now slide the toy further within her, Miranda's blood went cold.
"I intercepted The Book from Edie on the way over here to let you know--" Nigel stopped his breathless tirade, standing in her doorway as his eyebrows shot up his forehead, "--I'm outta here." He cleared his throat. "I, uh, didn't mean to interrupt."
Miranda's face burned. She could feel a vitriolic comment forming on her tongue while her mind raced, hoping that it weren't completely obvious that he'd interrupted sex.
"Hey Nige!" Andrea said, her voice high and chipper.
Nigel nodded, the awkward tension easing slightly from his shoulders. "Andy."
"I’m glad you're here. Can you tell Miranda to sit still for five minutes? Even Miranda Priestly needs to take a break…especially on the nights she blows off dinner with her girlfriend."
Nigel winced and shrugged in Miranda's direction. "You heard the woman. Take a break."
And, before Miranda could jump start her brain into working out a proper solution for this ridiculous situation, Andrea wrapped her arms around Miranda's waist and pulled her against her…
…and impaled her with the dildo, pressing the full length completely within her.
Miranda clenched her lips tightly together, swallowing a cry. She felt her cheeks burn with heat and she closed her eyes, attempting to catch her breath.
"Looks like this break couldn't have come soon enough," Nigel said, stepping forward to drop the book against the desk. "Miranda, you look like you're about to burst."
She cleared her throat and opened her eyes. "Headache," she rasped.
Nigel nodded knowingly. "Well, I'll leave you to enjoy your little office cuddle. Good to see you, Andy."
"You too, Nigel. Let's have drinks some time?"
"You got it. See you tomorrow, Miranda."
Miranda nodded, her head dizzy and heavy. She watched until his shining bald head could no longer be seen. Andrea laughed.
"Oh my god!" She giggled, leaning her forehead into Miranda's back. "Thank God you're not wearing pants!" This garnered another wave of laughter. When she realized that Miranda had not joined in, she cleared her throat. "Hey, what's wrong? He didn't see anything. Valentino's got us well covered here."
Miranda searched for an insult. She wracked her brain for something to say to Andrea Sachs to express her extreme displeasure and humiliation.
Instead, she lifted her hips and then slid hard onto the strap on. She moaned.
"Oh Jesus…" Andrea sighed. She reached up, grasping at Miranda's breasts.
Miranda choked back a moan as she rocked her hips, closing her eyes when Andrea's fingers began to tease her nipples through her blouse and bra. She longed for the offending articles of clothing to be discarded but couldn't risk--
Andrea began to lift her hips in time with Miranda's thrusts, meeting her halfway and driving the dildo in to the hilt, and Miranda's thoughts could go no further than the overwhelming pleasure she was experiencing. Tiny whimpers and moans sounded behind her, sending a shiver down Miranda's back.
"Oh God, Miranda…you're so…uhn…good," Andrea gasped.
"Mmm…I need…ooh…I…"
And, in ways that Miranda could never begin to comprehend, Andrea read her mind and stood, bending Miranda over the desk. With swift consideration she pushed aside Miranda's laptop and Miranda grasped the edge of the desk.
"I've wanted this…all day," Andrea groaned, pistoning her hips harder against her.
Miranda moaned in agreement, spreading her legs wider. Her fingers clenched around the edge of the desk, her forehead pressed to the cold glass. Her breath came in short, hot bursts, fogging the surface of the desk. "Yes…harder…"
Andrea complied, rocking her hips in quick, steady thrusts. The ribbing of the dildo caught uncomfortably at Miranda's panties and Miranda growled, pulling them aside.
"Allow me," Andrea said, stilling her hips. As she slid the dildo deep within Miranda, Andrea leaned over her. Miranda furrowed her brow, waiting anxiously for Andrea's hand to hold aside the offending garment.
"What--"
The cold kiss of metal met her backside and she sucked in a breath, moaning as she heard the sharp scissor blades part the satin in one swift snip. Andrea cut the remaining side, dropped the scissors on the desk, and pulled away the ruined fabric.
"Fuck," Miranda cried, her breath heaving in her chest. Her sex quivered, her arousal thickly coating the hard phallus within her.
Andrea slowly withdrew the dildo, allowing each ridge to pop out and stroke against her opening. Miranda stretched and shrank with each rivet and she moaned, biting her lip when Andrea had removed all but the bulbous tip of the strap on.
"Please," Miranda wailed, arching her mons against the edge of the desk as she attempted to claim more of the toy. Her clit throbbed harshly.
"Tell me what you want, Miranda."
Miranda looked over her shoulder. In the dim lighting of the room, Andrea's face was clouded by shadows, but her eyes shone brilliantly with her arousal. Her hair was tousled, her blouse straining as her breasts heaved with each intake of breath, and Miranda could make out the straps from the harness. She bit her lip and said, her voice steady, "Fuck me."
Andrea's eyes snapped shut and her fingers tensed and Miranda felt a satisfied grin break over her face. For some reason, it turned the girl on past the point of sanity to hear Miranda lose control enough to curse. Miranda could care less about swearing; in her line of work, she found much more effective ways of making a declarative statement without the use of such four-letter words, but it pleased her to see Andrea react.
Miranda half-expected Andrea to plow into her and gave a frustrated sigh when she began to push the dildo slowly into her. Miranda dropped her forehead to the desk and hissed as the wide phallus stretched her once more. Each ridge on the dildo stroked against her sensitive, quivering walls and, when Andrea had buried herself deep inside of her, Miranda said, "I need you to fuck me. Please…I…I need it…"
Andrea slid one hand down the length of Miranda's spine and grabbed at her shoulder. Her grip was firm and, as Miranda began to pant and shift her hips, Andrea began to fuck her with a purpose.
Lights and colors began to explode behind Miranda's eyes as pleasure set her aflame. She bit her lip, choking back moans and screams.
Miranda Priestly, Queen of the Fashion World, was being taken from behind over her desk by a former employee.
This could ruin her. If anyone saw - if anyone knew that Miranda was submissively taking it to the hilt by her younger female lover - her reputation would be demolished.
And then Andrea began to whisper, saying things like "gonna make you come so hard" and "I can hear how wet you are" and Miranda knew it wouldn't matter if the entire Elias-Clarke staff were watching. All that mattered were Andrea's nails that now dug into her hips, her little whimpers and moans, and the sound of her embarrassingly wet cunt sliding against the strap on.
"Ooh…ooh M'randa…"
Miranda could tell that Andrea was nearing her own orgasm. She imagined what it felt like for the younger woman, having the shaft driving back against her clit, having the harness stroke and press against her, how it must look to have Miranda Priestly exposed on her desk…and then it became too much. She let go of the desk with one hand, brushing against papers and photos that cascaded to the floor, and she brought it between her legs. She could feel rivers of fluid seeping from her as the dildo thrust quickly within her and Miranda began to press furiously at her clit with two fingers, rubbing and stroking until her legs began to shake and foreign sounds erupted from her mouth.
She broke into a thousand pieces then, her body shattering as a fierce orgasm tore through her. She cried and whimpered and sobbed Andrea's name and behind her, somewhere in the distance, she heard Andrea coming with a desperate wail.
It was hours, or days, or minutes before Miranda came back to herself. Her forehead pressed against the damp condensation left by her breath and she felt a sore tingle between her legs. Andrea was still inside her.
The younger woman was slumped over Miranda's back, her breath still heaving irregularly. "Holy fuck," Andrea mumbled.
"Indeed," Miranda responded, her voice hoarse.
With a grunt Andrea straightened her back and began to slowly pull out, the copious fluid allowing it to pass with ease. With a faint 'pop' it was free and Andrea sat back on the chair.
With what Miranda hoped was a fair amount of dignity and grace, she pushed herself up, straightening her skirt and running her fingers through her hair as she glanced at the sight of her lover. Andrea looked radiant. In this state, post-orgasm and too stunned for words by the force of their combined pleasure, she was exquisite. Miranda's heart clenched.
"Wow."
Miranda smirked. "Quite."
"You don't have to be all cool, you know," Andrea said, reaching for a tissue.
"What would you have me be?" Miranda questioned, watching as Andrea wiped her arousal from the red shaft.
"Well, you don't have to be all proper. You can tell me that I fucked you good."
"Must I say it? Didn't you receive confirmation enough?"
"Well, yea," Andrea grinned sheepishly as she tucked the dildo back into her pants and zipped them, "but I like it when you talk dirty."
Miranda shook her head and, resting her hands against the arms of the chair, leaned close to Andrea's face. "You fucked me very, very well, Andrea." She grinned as she felt the heat of Andrea's blush.
"Ooh God. Do you have to do that?"
"Do what?" Miranda asked sweetly, stepping away and bending to pick up the fallen papers and photographs.
Andrea knelt beside her and helped shuffle papers back in order. "Be all sexy and get me going again."
"I did as you asked."
Andrea frowned. "Yea, I guess you did." Andrea sighed. "Are you almost done here?"
"Hardly," Miranda said, dropping her papers back on the desk. "This minor setback cost me at least another half an hour worth of work."
"I could stay and help if you wanted?"
"How am I supposed to work while you're packing that thing beneath your trousers?"
Andrea grinned. "You know you like it."
"Be that as it may," Miranda responded, sitting at her desk, "I know you have an early day tomorrow."
"Hey, relationships take compromise."
"Just like you compromised and rewarded me for missing dinner?"
"It was a reward for me too," Andrea grinned, blushing.
Miranda stared at the smiling face of her lover and felt, as she often did, completely overwhelmed with awe. How was it possible that this - all of this - was for her?
She felt something beneath her thigh and shifted, removing her ruined pair of panties. She raised an eyebrow.
"Oops." Andrea said, grabbing them. She tucked them into her pocket. "Sorry. I thought about being all suave and ripping them off your body, but knowing me I'd have ended up with a black eye or something."
Miranda chuckled.
Andrea sat down in the chair opposite the desk. "Now come on. Give me something to do so we can go home."
Miranda handed Andrea the stack of memos and listened to her faint breathing as she steadfastly organized them. Her headache, she noticed, was gone.
With a smile playing at her lips, Miranda returned her attention to her work.
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