Disclaimer: Fox and Paramount own the rights to the movie and TV-show respectively. I only play with them for fun, and no copyright infringement is ever intended.
Fandoms: The Devil Wears Prada

Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Andy/Miranda

Summary: Miranda returns unexpectedly to the office late one Friday, only to find a desolate Andy sleeping on her couch.


A MirAndy DWP fan fiction short story by

Gun Brooke

Part 2(of 2)


Andy had trouble wrapping her brain around what just happened. She'd been crying her heart out, feeling the proverbial rug being yanked away from underneath her, leaving her alone in a very cold place. Suddenly, Miranda was there. Her voice impossibly soft and caring. Then she was there, really there, in the guest bed with her arms protectively around Andy, still with the softly murmuring voice. And then the question. How could Andy answer that? How could she tell the truth, and risk Miranda recoiling, leaving Andy without any safe harbor whatsoever?

Still, Andy couldn't disregard the tremor in Miranda's voice, the courage, and the fear, with which she had asked her question. Knowing full well she couldn't ignore, or lie to, Miranda, Andy accepted that she might be risking everything, but still she buried her face in Miranda's fragrant neck and murmured, "Yes."

"What? Andrea, I can't hear you when you hide like that."

Another deep breath. "Yes."



Miranda's arms tightened around Andy and there they were again, those lips against her head, and then her forehead. "We'll work it out," Miranda whispered. "I know you hurt now, but I promise you, we'll work it out."

"I thought you'd hate me."

"Whatever for?"

"For…for everything." Andy nuzzled the warm neck of the woman she'd settled for pleasing only as her assistant, since the concept of being something else, more, had seemed utopian. "I've been kind of stressed out. Guess it's taking its toll, huh?"

"I have no complains about your professional performance. As for the stress…" Miranda's voice changed, hardened, "I'm not impressed with the conduct of your friends. The young man, well, he's of course disappointed that you wouldn't conform, but friends should let you—be you."

"I think Doug will come around. He was pretty drunk before. Lily had probably nagged at him for hours on end. Lily, though…I knew she had this unforgiving element to her. I knew that. Just didn't think she'd…she'd…" Andy felt new tears drench her cheeks and Miranda's neck.

"That this Lily would direct her discontent toward you."


"And what did you fear would happen if you let me know about your attraction?"

"Worst case scenario? That you'd fire me." Andy clung to Miranda, her arm around the other woman's waist. Somehow this anchored her, made her think things could actually get better.

"And best case scenario?" Miranda sound like she actually held her breath.

"Best?" Andy felt her cheeks warm. How could she tell Miranda that?

"Yes. If you could everything the way you wanted it to be?"

"What would be the use in telling you that? It never can." Andy started trembling again. Damn, she wasn't exactly coming off as strong and brave, was she?

"You don't know that."

"Why don't you share yours then?"

"What do you mean?" Miranda became rigid.

"You could tell me your best case scenario." Andy knew Miranda wouldn't appreciate her turning the tables on her like this.

"Very well, Andrea. Just remember that you can get more than you bargained for."

"You're stalling."

Miranda gave a muted growl.


Such an infuriating young woman she was. Miranda couldn't fathom how Andrea had seized the conversation and put Miranda on the spot. She pressed her thighs together, only now remembering that she was naked underneath the silk robe. It had ridden up, and parted, which could be embarrassing at best, and catastrophic at worst.

As for the best scenario concept, Miranda's pride worked against her. She was too proud to admit defeat, and she was even prouder when it came to allowing anyone to maneuver her. But this was Andrea and Miranda was the one who opened up for this topic.

"Best case scenario would be if you would let me care for you, even a little, Andrea." Miranda stopped talking when the lanky arm around her midsection held on firmer. "If you could see yourself becoming part of my life as something else, something more, than being my assistant. The ultimate case scenario would be if you permitted me to kiss you. Now." Miranda closed her eyes as she felt how her body reacted to her own words. Her thighs throbbed and moisture seeped between them. Her nipples were so hard, and sensitive in a skinless way, even the silk robe felt too coarse against her.

Suddenly Andrea shifted in bed, and Miranda thought she was leaving for a frightening moment. Instead her face hovered above Miranda's for a few, tormenting moments. Andrea's features were barely visible in the muted light, but Miranda could still make out the careful smile. Slowly, she lowered herself, settling with one leg between Miranda's, proving that she only wore the jacket part of the pajamas available to guests.

"There might be a problem, Miranda," Andrea said, her breath hot.

"Problem?" Miranda's heart did a double contraction. "I can't imagine why. You can do anything, right?"

"I don't know about that…but, since you ask, I can do this…" Andrea pressed her impossibly soft lips against Miranda's. She had never in her life shared a kiss like this with anyone. So soft, so enticing, and frustrating in the sense that Miranda found herself wanting more. A lot more. She cupped Andrea's cheeks and angled their heads. Not asking for permission, Miranda knew she needed to taste those luscious lips. She slid her tongue quickly across Andrea's lips, once, twice…and the third time; Andrea was ready and countered the caress with her own tongue.

Miranda gasped, her hips arched off the bed and she knew her robe had come undone completely. She knew this at some subconscious level, because they were now deepening the kiss, their tongues wrestling sweetly. Andrea's murmur was the sexiest sound to date, and when the girl whimpered in the back of her throat, Miranda rolled them over.

"I want you." Miranda purred in Andrea's ear. "I can't remember ever wanting anyone, or anything, this badly."

"You have me," Andrea said and pushed Miranda's robe off one shoulder. "Unbutton me, please?"

Miranda deftly unbuttoned the pajama jacket, and slid it down Andrea's arms. The streetlight outlined perfect, round breasts with puckered nipples. Miranda's mouth was watering. "So beautiful."

"No. You. You are beautiful." Andrea undulated softly against Miranda. "I'm burning up. For you."

"Let me. Please, Andrea. Let me." Miranda knew she had to ask. She had to have this young woman's undeniable consent.

"Tell me; tell me what you want to do to me." Andrea leaned against her elbows and gently rubbed into Miranda with what felt like naked hips.

Was she really naked? Oh, God. "You're killing me, Andrea."

"Just tell me."

"I want…to make love. To love you. Just…love you." Miranda hated when tears betrayed her. Now they rose quickly in her eyes and she didn't dare blink since that would only make the trickle down her cheeks.

"L-love?" Andy stopped her movements. "Love me?"


"You're not…I mean, you're sure?"

"When am I not sure, Andrea?" Miranda's haughty tone failed miserably.

"Miranda Priestly." Andrea's voice softened. "Reach out and switch on the bedside light, please."

Suddenly feeling utterly self-conscious, Miranda did as Andrea asked. Soft ambiance light revealed Andrea's gorgeous face, her huge eyes, and the kiss-swollen, full lips.

"There. Better." Andrea regarded Miranda with such tenderness, such desire; it sent a new flood of moisture between her legs. "I love you, Miranda. It was meant to be my secret as my biggest fear was losing you. Had that happened tonight, after losing everybody else that meant anything to me…It would've marked me for life." Andrea's tone was matter of fact, but the words devastating in themselves.

"I won't insult you with questions regarding potential girl-crush, hero worship, and so on," Miranda said, combing through Andrea's hair with unsteady fingers. "You're here, your very naked body flush with mine, which is equally undressed. When you tell me you love me…" Miranda had to stop, had to breathe before she continued. "I believe you. I have to. If I didn't…It would mark me for life as well. And Andrea? I love you too. Let me. Please." The treacherous tears finally spilled over, but they had no chance to run down Miranda's cheeks. Andrea launched at them, licking them, kissing them off her face. She kept up the caresses, placed open-mouth kisses down Miranda's neck, murmuring terms of endearment. Miranda tipped her head back, offering Andrea her neck, her jugular as it were.

Andrea's hot mouth homed in on her breasts, her nipples, sucking, nipping, and pulling gently with her teeth. Miranda wasn't sure she'd survive the onslaught to her senses. How was it possible that she, who was no novice when it came to sex, albeit only with men so far, was experiencing feelings so unlike everything else? The thought was ridiculous, but she felt like a virgin of sorts when Andrea pushed her hand down between them. When curious, hot fingers pushed in between Miranda's drenched folds, she couldn't be quiet to save her life. It was such an amazing feeling as the slender fingers slide up and down on either side of her clitoris, pushing it out of its hood, the pleasure bordering on pain.

"You feel…you're so wet. Oh…" Andrea seemed almost as affected by the intimate caresses. "Yes, like so. Just like so. Spread your legs more."

"Go inside," Miranda said, groaning as Andrea began to circle her entrance. "No. Just do it. I need you, Andrea."

Andrea pushed inside, at least two fingers, Miranda thought. She honestly didn't care, since the orgasm balanced on the edge of a precipice and she wanted to grab at it with both hands and jump off the cliff with it. Andrea pressed the palm of her hand over her clit, rubbed it in fierce circles as her fingers claimed her lover. Once and for all, Miranda thought.

Suddenly the orgasm was right there. It crashed over her, cascading from Andrea's hand, all over Miranda's sex, her legs and torso, up through her nipples. Arching, pushing closer to Andrea, needing her closer yet, Miranda gasped her name over and over.

"Here. Here, Miranda. I'm here." Andrea's breathless voice gushed over Miranda as she placed kisses along her cheeks and across her lips. "God, you're stunning when you come."

Miranda began the descent from the orgasm and now she only had one thing in her head. Andrea. She needed her to come too. She wanted to watch this amazing girl come undone.


Andy had never witness anything like Miranda Priestly's orgasm. To see the fashion icon become the real person was enticing enough, but to watch her give herself over willingly, hear her cry out, a husky, joyous, yet pained cry.

Now, Miranda used surprising strength to roll them again, pushing herself down Andy's body. What was she…? Seriously? Miranda pressed her lips against Andy's drenched folds, parted them with her hot tongue. Flicking it over the swollen clit, massaging it with gentle insistence, she coaxed Andy toward that blue-tinted flame.

Andy needed more contact. She pushed her fingers into the soft white hair of her lover—lover —and thus anchored her feelings.

"You're like fire. Your lips and tongue. Burns."

"Good." The solitary word hummed against Andy's sex, reverberating into her folds.

"Y-you're going to make me come. Oh. God. Jesus." Tensing up, Andy pushed her folds into Miranda's voracious mouth. This made Miranda suck with long, languid movements of her tongue. "Please. Oh, yes, please. Miranda. Miranda…" Andy couldn't speak anymore. "Ah!"

"Come for me, Andrea. Please. Come for me." Miranda slid up along Andy's sweat-slick body, at the same time slipping her fingers inside, spreading her tissues, the friction enough to make it happen. "Yes. Like that. Just like that." Miranda pressed her lips to Andy's neck, sucking at the muscled and tendons there. Andy's back arched, kept its rigidity for several moments when the orgasm washed over her.

Losing track of time, Andy clung to Miranda who pulled the bed sheet up over them.

"Love you." Andy resumed her position with her face pressed into Miranda's neck.

"And I love you, Andrea." Miranda murmured against Andy's hair. "Just close your eyes now. Rest."

"You'll stay, right?"

"Yes. If you want me here, nothing can keep me away." Miranda moved the duvet to cover them as well. Slowly their breathing calmed and Andy felt sleep finally overtake her.


Miranda sat next to Andrea at the kitchen barstools. She held on to her coffee mug with one hand, and had the other one firmly placed on Andrea's thigh. Guessing her face reflected the apprehension she felt as Andrea waited for one of her parents to pick up the phone, she willed her features to relax into an encouraging expression. She knew the outcome of this attempt on Andrea's part to reach out could end in either of two different ways. No matter which, Miranda would not move from her side.

"Daddy? It's Andy." Her eyes huge, Andrea trembled and placed her hand on top of Miranda's. "I-I know you heard everything yesterday. No. No. I thought you might've heard that Nate threw me out. Yes. Really. Yes. I'm okay. Yes, that's what I wanted to—" Andrea quieted, closing her eyes briefly. "I just wanted you to know that I've ha place to stay, in case you were worried… Where? With a friend. The best ever." Andrea's eyes softened, only to harden into cold, brown marbles. "You have no right to ask me that, or ask that of me. I realize you found out the wrong way, and I'm sorry about that, but I'm not sorry for being who I am, or what I am. I'll call you guys in a few weeks when you've had time to think. You can always text me or email, but I won't take any calls for a few weeks. I think you can imagine how upset I am. Take care. Bye." Andrea lowered her phone after disconnecting. She placed it on the counter with the same care she'd let go of a poisonous snake. "That's that. For now."

"Darling." Miranda rose and hugged Andrea closer. "They will come around. They might be biased, for whatever reason, but I can't imagine anyone who truly loves you, can imagine being without you. I certainly can't."

"Miranda." Andrea looked at her with such love and such pain, it pierced Miranda's chest, positively skewering her.


"I love you."

"I love you as well."

"Can we, uh, take a bath, or something? I feel a little cold."

"Anything you want." Miranda put her mug down and cupped Andrea's cheeks. "No matter what and you know how determined I am, so, no matter what, I love you. I can't be without you. Do you understand, Andrea?"

Andrea's smile softened, her eyes sparkled with faint amusement. This was the real Andrea when not traumatized by family or 'friends'. She looked Miranda over before she spoke the words she'd said so many times since her very first day at Runway.

"Yes, Miranda."