White Christmas | Miranda/Jane, DWP/It's Complicated
Miranda Priestly/Jane Adler, 596 words, written for femslash_land, I do not own either Devil Wears Prada or It's Complicated.
Miranda and Jane are stuck in Miranda's townhouse on a snowy Christmas Eve.
Jane Adler stared glumly out of the window at the billowing white fluff that filled the air and coated everything within sight. How did people live like this? Earthquakes were one thing but a Noreaster was her new idea of what hell was. Hell wasn’t roasting, hell was covered in snow and everything was frozen and you could look outside and see the city but you couldn’t get to it.
Miranda sauntered nonchalantly into the sitting room and draped an arm around Jane’s waist. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Jane turned to her girlfriend and blinked in disbelief. “Beautiful? I’d say… desolate.”
Miranda laughed her throaty, melodic laugh and gave Jane a squeeze. “You haven’t had a good old fashioned New York Christmas and you haven’t had the full Christmas experience. Haven’t you ever heard the song ‘Dreaming of a White Christmas’? This is it. This is the fabled white Christmas.”
Jane shrugged, “it’s overrated.”
Caroline and Cassidy were spending Christmas with Miranda’s mother in New Jersey. Miranda and Jane were supposed to drive down in the evening but it looked like the weather had other plans. Jane had already been a little miserable that Jake had decided to take the kids to Cancun because she wouldn’t have them for the holiday, but now she wished that she and Miranda were lounging by a pool in their bathing suits instead of snowed into Miranda’s townhouse.
Jane turned and snaked her hands into Miranda’s sweater, usurping as much body heat as she could manage. “I am so cold.” She said pitifully.
“I built a fire.” Miranda said matter-of-factly, “come into the den and you will be warmer.”
“You built a fire?” Jane questioned as Miranda took her by the hand and guided her down the hallway.
“I’m very good with my hands, you know.”
Jane blushed, “yes, you are…”
Miranda stole a glance over her shoulder, “you’re wicked.”
Once in the den Jane was enveloped in the warmth from the fireplace and she relaxed instantly. The rug in front of the fire was a replica of the rug that La Savonnerie made for Louis XV but all Jane cared about was that it looked very soft and it provided the warmest seat in the room. She sank down onto the soft fibers, burying her fingers into the rich hues and smiling up at Miranda.
“Thought you’d be happy.” Miranda lowered herself to sit next to Jane. She pushed the hair back away from her neck and kissed it softly.
Jane let out a shaky breath, tilting her head further to allow better access. Miranda could never be accused of wasting a good opportunity. She scooted closer and wrapped one arm around the blonde while her lips and teeth kissed and nipped a path up to Jane’s ear.
Jane moaned and squeezed Miranda’s knee, “feels so good…”
“Good.” Miranda whispered. Miranda used her body to coax Jane to lay back on the rug.
The older woman hovered over her, drinking in the beauty of Jane and her wavy blonde hair creating a halo behind her head, flickering firelight dancing over her features. Miranda was overcome with emotion and she leaned down and capture Jane’s mouth in a deep, loving kiss.
Jane’s fingers dipped into Miranda’s iconically snow white hair and massaged her scalp as they kissed. Jane brought one leg up, Miranda’s hips pushing against Jane’s center and she groaned.
Miranda broke the kiss breathlessly and trailed kisses along the blonde’s jaw and murmured, “Merry Christmas, Jane. I love you.”
Jane smiled warmly, “Merry Christmas, Miranda, I love you too.”
Miranda and Jane are stuck in Miranda's townhouse on a snowy Christmas Eve.
Jane Adler stared glumly out of the window at the billowing white fluff that filled the air and coated everything within sight. How did people live like this? Earthquakes were one thing but a Noreaster was her new idea of what hell was. Hell wasn’t roasting, hell was covered in snow and everything was frozen and you could look outside and see the city but you couldn’t get to it.
Miranda sauntered nonchalantly into the sitting room and draped an arm around Jane’s waist. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Jane turned to her girlfriend and blinked in disbelief. “Beautiful? I’d say… desolate.”
Miranda laughed her throaty, melodic laugh and gave Jane a squeeze. “You haven’t had a good old fashioned New York Christmas and you haven’t had the full Christmas experience. Haven’t you ever heard the song ‘Dreaming of a White Christmas’? This is it. This is the fabled white Christmas.”
Jane shrugged, “it’s overrated.”
Caroline and Cassidy were spending Christmas with Miranda’s mother in New Jersey. Miranda and Jane were supposed to drive down in the evening but it looked like the weather had other plans. Jane had already been a little miserable that Jake had decided to take the kids to Cancun because she wouldn’t have them for the holiday, but now she wished that she and Miranda were lounging by a pool in their bathing suits instead of snowed into Miranda’s townhouse.
Jane turned and snaked her hands into Miranda’s sweater, usurping as much body heat as she could manage. “I am so cold.” She said pitifully.
“I built a fire.” Miranda said matter-of-factly, “come into the den and you will be warmer.”
“You built a fire?” Jane questioned as Miranda took her by the hand and guided her down the hallway.
“I’m very good with my hands, you know.”
Jane blushed, “yes, you are…”
Miranda stole a glance over her shoulder, “you’re wicked.”
Once in the den Jane was enveloped in the warmth from the fireplace and she relaxed instantly. The rug in front of the fire was a replica of the rug that La Savonnerie made for Louis XV but all Jane cared about was that it looked very soft and it provided the warmest seat in the room. She sank down onto the soft fibers, burying her fingers into the rich hues and smiling up at Miranda.
“Thought you’d be happy.” Miranda lowered herself to sit next to Jane. She pushed the hair back away from her neck and kissed it softly.
Jane let out a shaky breath, tilting her head further to allow better access. Miranda could never be accused of wasting a good opportunity. She scooted closer and wrapped one arm around the blonde while her lips and teeth kissed and nipped a path up to Jane’s ear.
Jane moaned and squeezed Miranda’s knee, “feels so good…”
“Good.” Miranda whispered. Miranda used her body to coax Jane to lay back on the rug.
The older woman hovered over her, drinking in the beauty of Jane and her wavy blonde hair creating a halo behind her head, flickering firelight dancing over her features. Miranda was overcome with emotion and she leaned down and capture Jane’s mouth in a deep, loving kiss.
Jane’s fingers dipped into Miranda’s iconically snow white hair and massaged her scalp as they kissed. Jane brought one leg up, Miranda’s hips pushing against Jane’s center and she groaned.
Miranda broke the kiss breathlessly and trailed kisses along the blonde’s jaw and murmured, “Merry Christmas, Jane. I love you.”
Jane smiled warmly, “Merry Christmas, Miranda, I love you too.”