PAIRING: Andy/Miranda, Miranda/1st Husband
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these things unfortunately.
RATING: PG-13 for insinuation.
A/N: So this is my first ever fic, I thought this challenge would be a really good way to get into it. Unbetaed so there may well be mistakes.
1. Pick a character, pairing or fandom that you like
2. Turn your music player on and turn it to random.
3. Write a drabble/ficlet related to each song that plays. You have only the length of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do five of these and post them.
Hundred – The Fray
Andy didn’t know what she was doing here. The atmospheric lighting, mellow music and copious amounts of wine seemed to be conspiring to make her as out of it as possible and the woman in front of her wasn’t helping at all. She was rubbing her bare foot down the length of Andy’s calf and it was creating a strange fuzzy feeling at the back of her head. She was speaking in a low cadence that was unique to her and it weaved in and out of the music, seemingly without pause.
‘You could ruin me Andrea,’ the older woman paused; ‘you are ruining me but at the same time you’re so irresistible...’ she trailed off, her piercing blue eyes seeming to stare straight through Andy. ‘Tell me you feel the same.’
‘M-Miranda, I erm...’ The foot stopped abruptly, resting just above Andy’s ankle. ‘I’ve never even thought about...I mean it’s not that you’re not, I’m just-’
‘I understand.’ Andy’s ankle was suddenly cold and as she watched Miranda stand up to leave, the room suddenly jerked back into focus.
Billie Jean – Michael Jackson
‘Don’t lie Miranda.’
‘Why would I lie about this?’ She brandished the pregnancy test, her eyes brimming with unshed tears and it was then Jack remembered.
The club was dark and full to the brim with the hippest people on the fashion scene and Jack felt completely out of place. He had spent the evening at the bar, avoiding advances from a strange man wearing a checked suit who had insisted on calling him Cuddle.
‘It’s funny because I think you’re the last person I’m gunna get a cuddle off tonight.’ Jack turned on his stool looking for someone to distract him from the crazy drunk and it was then he saw her.
She was wearing a soft blue dress that moved like liquid and her pale blonde hair was swept back from her forehead; she moved to the beat effortlessly, her hips swaying from side to side. He was hypnotised.
She wound her arms around his neck immediately, moving against him, the lyrics of the song hot puffs of breath against his neck. He moved with her, swept up in her beauty.
It wasn’t his finest hour, the wall was rough and the alley smelt of piss but he wanted her and she wasn’t resisting, instead running her hands over his chest, murmuring words that meant nothing to either of them. It seemed to be over before it had begun.
‘You were the only one.’
‘It’s not mine Miranda’ He stood firm, even as he felt himself heating up under the tight restrictions of the designer suit and that’s when he saw her face change. She stood a little straighter and wiped the threatening tears from her eyes.
‘Fine.’ She turned on her heel and left. He never heard from her again.
Won’t Stop – OneRepublic
‘And I’m the lucky soul that holds your hand, so tight, hope you hear this one day...’ Andy sang along, oblivious of the presence in the doorway that watched her intently.
‘I can hear it now.’ The sudden interruption startled Andy who jumped, the spoon, covered in cake mix, that she had been holding jumping with her and smearing the sugary mix over her cheek.
‘Shit, do you have to do that?’ Miranda smirked in reply, moving towards Andrea.
‘I swear it’s you that my heart beats for.’ Miranda murmured against Andy’s neck before leaning in to delicately lick the cake mix from her porcelain cheek, savouring the taste. ‘You taste delicious.’
The kisses were lingering and slow and held the promise of so much more.
‘Do you have to?’ Miranda and Andy turned to face the pair of red heads that were looking anywhere but at the two of them.
‘Yes.’ Andy said, kissing Miranda’s cheek once more, before disentangling herself. ‘Now, who’s for cake?’
Hysteria – Muse
She liked her heels high, her coffee hot and her demands fulfilled.
She was Miranda Priestly, Editor in Chief of the biggest fashion magazine in America and she loved to get what she wanted. She always got what she wanted. And what she wanted was Andrea.
Ever since she had walked in with her innocent expression and impassioned speech Miranda had felt a pull towards her however it was far from maternal, instead she felt a raging urge to build this girl up to the top and then knock her back down again because Miranda knew that once she’d had a taste of it Andrea would claw her way back up the ladder even if she had to knock down a million other people to get there. Just like Miranda had done.
But Andrea was nothing if not resistant to her persistent advances, Miranda could offer her the world on a plate and she continued in her obliviousness. Nothing was more frustrating and it constantly grated on Miranda.
The day Andy walked away was the day that Miranda realised that she wouldn’t always get what she wanted, not when it came to Andrea Sachs at least.
Hung Up – Madonna
The outer office was quiet save for the sound of Andy’s regular deep breaths. Outside it was dark and the clock on the wall read 3:47am. Andy was waiting for Lagerfeld to call.
The clock ticked incessantly providing a reassuring lullaby that lured Andy to the dark beckoning of sleep. However it wasn’t long before the phone rang.
‘Âllo? Âllo?’ A voice in the background said something about never going to voicemail. A sound of disgust could be heard before the phone was slammed down hard.
It was 7:05 when Andy was woken by the sound of heels tapping on the hardwood floor before coming to a stop at her desk. The first thing Andy saw when she opened her eyes was the flashing red light on the phone.
‘What is this Andrea?’ One of Miranda’s hands sat on her hip the other on Andy’s desk, drumming her nails persistently.
‘I, erm, I don’t-‘ time seemed to stop as suddenly realisation dawned, a storm cloud passing over Andy’s tired face.
‘Did you miss Lagerfeld?’