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Light spills into the room from the windowsill, and the wooden floorboards reflect with a harsh glow. The disruption rouses Claire beneath the thin blankets — not yet accustomed to how it mercilessly showers Jill's apartment. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she wakes to witness Jill completely unbothered by it. Honestly, it leaves Claire mystified, but really, she shouldn't be surprised; to be honest, Jill could sleep through anything. The irony is that Jill was always the first one up.
The fresh air bites at Claire's skin, a constant that soon morphs into goosebumps from the exposure — winter mornings always tended to bother Claire. In an attempt to rid herself of it, Claire pulls the sheet up over her head, but just as the warm sheets begin to calm her goosebumps, there is an abrupt dip at the edge of the mattress and all of a sudden, the morning cold becomes the least of her worries.
Her hand instinctively snaps to Jill's arm, freezing the other woman in place. "Where are you going?" Claire asks, attempting to feign nonchalance, but her voice is a little too quick for her liking, the grip clasping Jill's wrist tighter than it needed to be.
This certainly doesn't go unnoticed by Jill; witnessing a vulnerable side of Claire — although rare and not without purpose — she can't help but allow a smile to quirk along her mouth.
How cute.
"Don't tell me you have to get ready for work now?" Claire's arms encircle Jill from behind, head coming to rest on her shoulder and — just like she has countless times before — Jill folds into her partner's touch.
"Perks of working in law enforcement, unfortunately," Jill responds, sarcasm rolling off her tongue.
"Well," Claire starts, a finger toying meticulously at the strap of Jill's tank top. "Unfortunately, this is our last morning together for a couple of weeks — my college campus is to blame for that." Annoyance crawls into her last sentence. "So, tell me, which do you think is more unfortunate?" Claire counters, her tone shifting into something more mischievous.
Jill's focus is drawn to some other dimension in the room, her lips pressed into a thin line, chewing at her inner cheek. The air pricks at the hairs protruding on Claire's skin, and she can't help but wonder just exactly what Jill could be thinking. And well, Jill only wonders how further she will sink into Claire, but the one thing she is certain of is that she has already passed the point-of-no-return.
"I'm not sure," Jill says anyway, biting her lower lip — a habit Claire has become all too familiar with over the past couple of months of them being together. Maybe there is something Claire can do to sway her?
After much consideration, Claire plants a kiss on the exposed skin on Jill's shoulder, then another one to the base of Jill's neck — purposeful and all too soft. Perhaps a little too soft, since the moment it leaves, the more Jill craves it back.
"Come on," Claire insists, the flutter of her eyelashes radiating a smile, and Jill is entranced by it. By her. "Can't a gal just have a few more minutes in bed with her girlfriend?"
Tapping Claire's wrist in thought, Jill naturally responds with, "A couple more minutes." Turning around, Jill witnesses Claire's light-up hearing her words, and Jill can easily imagine the messy ponytail bouncing joyfully, almost like the tail of a dog. Quite an uncanny resemblance, Jill had to admit; it seems rather fitting.
"Can't spare a minute more?" It's a plea; the circles in Claire's eyes are dilated, dark, and impossibly hopeful, and Jill thinks it's the most adorable thing ever.
"Don't get greedy now," Jill teases, and Claire isn't even able to respond as her mouth is captured by Jill's, an unspoken promise sealed for the next few fleeting moments. A promise Jill intends to keep.
She starts by placing her lips to Claire's forehead, one hand cradling the back of Claire's nape for extra reassurance. Then Jill finally allows herself to fall back onto the bed, extending her arms out to Claire like an invitation, and Claire happily accepts it. Collapsing down into Jill, the crevasse of Jill's neck becomes the ideal cushion for Claire to relax into.
Auburn hair tickles the base of Jill's chin, and Jill catches the hint of honey-scented conditioner Claire used last night in her shower. Despite it being her very own conditioner, Jill inhales its aroma, and that's all it takes for Jill's eyelid to become heavy with the lull of sleep. Honestly, at this rate, she might soon be convinced to stay like this the rest of the day.
"You're such a bad influence on me." Claire knows this very well. But here's the thing: she also knows exactly which buttons to push to have her way with Jill. Knows exactly what to say to force a blush upon her face — and Claire is the only person who can, after all. Claire knows exactly what strings to pull.
"You probably shouldn't have picked a college student to date then," And just like Claire predicts, the well-composed Jill crumbles away, gaze wandering away and a light flush rushes to her cheeks.
Although Jill doesn't mind when Claire is the one in control — she is all for allowing Claire to have her way with her — sometimes Jill believes Claire gets ahead of herself. This is one of those times.
Both hands flick to Claire's side, and with a gentle push, Claire is effortlessly flipped onto her back. Firm muscles press into Claire's stomach, cementing her in place, with toned arms held on either side of her.
"Don't push it, Redfield," Jill warns, voice steel-toned, her eyes narrow, and the only thing that betrays her is the corners of her mouth tugging up freely.
"Wow, last-name basis? Okay," Claire snorts a laugh. "Shouldn't that be reserved for my brother, not for your girlfriend?" Jill's arms shift to the side, an elbow held to balance her weight evenly as one hand slides to the apex of Claire's collarbone.
"I'm sure Chris would agree that you deserve it sometimes."
Claire releases an elongated sigh, "That's some way to torment me, I suppose."
"Think of it as part of my love language. And for getting back at you after all the times you’ve teased me."
"The difference is, though," Claire moves forward, mouth pressed to the lobe of her ear, "That's my job." She whispers, a hot breath brushing over Jill's ear. Immediately, she pulls back just in time to catch the flush spreading across Jill's face for a second time. In an attempt to remain composed, Jill purses her lips to no avail.
"See?" Claire wrinkles her brows.
Unable to contain her delight, Jill allows her walls to crumble and let a smile creep onto her face. "Right," is all she says, not completely agreeing but not completely ignoring what this woman does to her. "You're cheeky," Jill states.
"You only realised that now?" Claire folds her head to one side for emphasis.
"I'm beginning to realise a lot of things with you."
"Yeah?"
"You have no idea," An alluring tone trickles from her tongue, and Jill watches as a blush rushes over Claire, almost dumbfounded. Knowing she can cause such a thing from her partner beneath her elates Jill's heart. The desire for closeness forces Jill to gravitate forward to lay their foreheads together.
Dilated eyes return Claire's gaze, and the longer Claire stares into Jill's deep blue eyes, the more entranced she finds herself. Lost even. The stark blue stares back at her like an ocean, its expanse is calm at first glance. Controlled. However, the further she wanders into it, the sooner a storm is expected to approach. What will she do then? Claire isn't sure. All she knows is she can't imagine being anywhere else.
"What are you thinking about?" Jill asks, studying Claire's expression as her awareness comes back to her
"You, silly," Claire says, like it's the most obvious thing ever. "What else could I possibly be thinking about right now?" Jill's eyes are raised in surprise — like the thought hadn't crossed her mind whatsoever.
Jill chuckles, "Of course," resting against Claire's chest — the rise and fall of a soothing and much-needed reprieve. Unmoving, Jill feels a few fingers crawl to rest at the back of her neck, running through the baby hairs residing there. To no surprise, sleep begins to creep back to Jill, and she wants it. Wants to fall asleep like this, just like she has done countless times before. Then the imaginary timer ends, and the moment is over. However, a leg twists around Jill's in protest, trapping any movement with every intent of keeping her there.
"Claire," Jill groans with a frustrated sigh, regretful eyes peering down at her, "You know I can't." Claire expected this; what she can’t hold back is a frown spreading across her face. The thing is, though, Jill knows what buttons to push too.
"You're cute when you pout."
Claire points to Jill's chest, "You're horrible."
A genuine laughter erupts from Jill, the sort that is not reserved, unlike how it usually is. "What?" Claire tries to ask genuinely, but the joy of the moment proves contagious and she eventually finds herself laughing too.
"Let me make it up to you next time," Jill suggests.
"Yeah?" A brow quirks suggestively at Jill's words, and Jill can't help but roll her eyes, half out of annoyance, the other half out of amusement.
"Alright, you've had your fun," Jill gestures for Claire to release the grip on her, "come on." Claire eventually complies, much to her own dismay. Although, as Jill rises from the bed, she takes the opportunity to steal a kiss from an unsuspecting Claire.
"Hey!" Claire exclaims, "And you call me the cheeky one—" Claire barely finished her sentence before Jill darts to the bathroom. "How cruel."
As a customary part of her morning routine, Jill is at the counter-top making her morning coffee. Claire casually approaches an unsuspecting Jill from behind. Meeting her at the bench, Claire hoists herself up onto the countertop as Jill pours the contents of the kettle into two mugs. After stirring one with a spoon, she holds the mug out for Claire to take.
"Thanks," Claire says, accepting the mug, their fingers grazing slightly. Claire swirls the contents before taking a sip, watching as Jill opens the overhead cabinet and reaches for the jar of sugar. She doesn't miss how the front of Jill's shirt is untucked, leaving it ajar to just see the exposed skin beneath, but it's enough for Claire's heart to throb.
At this point, Claire is staring, observant of the woman next to her, not out of what Jill is doing, but rather out of how she looks while doing it. How the fabric of Jill's shirt accentuates the curves down her torso. Two sets of belts strap to her waist, with a set of pouches clutched to her side on one of them. All of Claire's thoughts are robbed of her; the only thought she musters is just how much she wants to strip those garments off.
"Are you giving me fuck-me-eyes?" Reality floods back to Claire, not realising until now that there is a bashful smirk across her face.
"Maybe," Claire, still holding the same smirk, biting her lower lip enough to ensure Jill witnesses it — and of course Jill does. Everything Claire does never goes unnoticed by Jill; she has a great tendency to pick up on the fine details, thanks to it being a heavy aspect of her job.
"Have I ever told just how fine you look in that uniform of yours?" Claire states, leaning back slightly on the bench, the mug coming to rest at the side of her thigh, awaiting an answer. Jill pops open the jar of sugar, digs out a teaspoon from the drawer and scoops the contents into her coffee — surprisingly, Jill has a big sweet tooth.
"Is that the only reason why you chose to date me?" Putting the spoon down, Jill takes a sip of her sweetened coffee, a knowing grin crossing her lips "Because I'm an officer in uniform?" She finishes, a singular brow quirked for emphasis.
"That's not the only reason," Claire admits easily, reaching out to urge Jill closer, who gladly accepts and steadies herself between the gap in Claire's legs.
Jill's eyes flutter, a question rising past her lashes, and with one last sip from her coffee, the ceramic mug is replaced with the hot skin of Claire's lower thigh. The contact sends a shiver up Claire's neck, the kind that causes her baby hairs to prick up, her heart to hammer against her chest, and a heat beginning to pulse somewhere lower.
"Name another one…" There's a small crack in Jill's voice from how raspy it is, and when she licks the remnants of the coffee from her lips, Claire can't help but imagine the taste of it on her tongue — bitter with a hint of sweetness from the added sugar. Their closeness causes Jill to absentmindedly trace random patterns into Claire's thigh.
They are even closer now.
Faces inches apart.
Noses barely touching.
Hot breath mixing from mouths hanging open for far too long.
The temperature in the room surges from anticipation, and the air weighs them down, thick with impatience, want, and desire. An unbearable amount, so much so, Jill can't help herself but let her gaze roam over Claire — something Claire always melted at. And Claire does, not missing the jump her heart does. What doesn't help is when Jill's attention focuses on Claire's mouth, and all Claire wants is them on her.
To taste the coffee still residing there.
To completely envelop her.
To be lost and eventually found all at once. But she doesn't. Not just yet.
"I'd have to say that thing you did with your tongue last night was pretty good," Claire utters. The heat of her breath brushes Jill's earlobe, and Claire has to resist the urge to nip at it.
Nerves tingle at Jill's spine, and the muscles in her neck fall weakly into the crook of Claire's shoulder. Resting the length of her arms at Claire's waist, Jill relaxes further into her.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" She admits, pulling back to view Claire, her index finger fidgeting with the elastic of Claire's shorts.
"Oh, I've got a couple of ideas. Officer…" The final word causes Jill's stomach to drop, and it becomes even harder to ignore the pulse rising below her abdomen now. But that doesn't stop her from going along with this.
"That's Officer Valentine for you, Miss Redfield." Jill returns, her voice lathered with seduction due to the unexpected roleplay. This is certainly something Jill did not anticipate this morning, and while the enjoyment of it is pleasing, the arousal is certainly something she can't ignore. Not now anyway. She knows she is too far gone now.
"Yes, ma'am. What seems to be the problem then, Officer Valentine?" Fingertips line down to the collar of Jill's shirt.
"We've received reports you have been causing some trouble on the road with that motorcycle of yours," Her mouth ghosts the soft jawline of Claire's.
"Really? I'm so sorry, I didn't even notice." Claire's touch moves along Jill's shoulder.
"I'm afraid I'll have to issue a fine." A kiss to the arch of her jaw.
"Oh, that won't be necessary." Then, along the toned muscle of Jill's bicep, "There's got to be some other way I can make it up to you, Officer Valentine?"
The use of her professional name this time causes Jill break character, a snicker pulling through the breath of her nostrils, and an amused grin she can't shake away. How the hell could she have gotten this lucky?
"You're such a dork," is all Jill comments before pulling her closer to catch their mouths together. A hint of coffee washes over Claire just like she predicted, and it makes her want to devour every drop of it. Of Jill.
Teeth clash in a hungry attempt to sate their need for closeness. Saliva and bruised tongues blend aimlessly with a mind of their own. Their movements are erratic, a complete afterthought, grasping onto whatever they can that could draw them impossibly closer than they already are.
Jill's hold on the elastic loosens, and she lets her hand fall underneath for more contact, sliding down the hump of her backside caught between Claire's skin and the firmness of the countertop. Claire, on the other hand, runs her fingers through the strands of brown hair until they reach the beret. Removing it, Claire tosses it onto the bench. Soon, Jill finds her hair has become dishevelled as Claire continuously combs through it greedily.
"I just did my hair," Jill points out, but she gets the feeling that doesn't matter to Claire, and to her satisfaction, the assumption becomes true as an eager Claire tugs and pulls at her scalp, chasing more. Strings of hair cascade further over the curves of Jill's cheeks, the hook of her nose, and one gets caught in between a kiss. Suddenly, Claire drops to the length of Jill's neck, nibbling at the mole right above her collarbone, and it weakens Jill's knees.
Sensing this, Claire hauls herself down from the counter, the contact broken momentarily, only for it to be brought back to Jill's lips seconds later. The edge of the bench digs into the curve of Jill's back, and instinctively her arms tangle around Claire's waist, flushing their bodies together until their hips are level. A hand glides down from Jill's shoulder, over the rise and fall of her chest, until they meet the hem of the shirt tucked into Jill's cargo pants.
"Claire, we can't…" Dropping back to her neck, Claire bites down, light enough not to leave any marks, but just enough for Jill to gasp and lose the remainder of her sentence. She moves even lower this time, mouth meeting the collar of Jill's shirt and finally leaves a mark, eliciting a hitch in Jill's breath.
"Do you want me to stop?" She asks, searching for any confirmation in Jill's blown eyes.
"No," Jill answers lowly, "Definitely not." She finishes, dipping herself into the corner of Claire's shoulder, and all Jill can focus on is how much she wants to be rid of the heat between her legs. What is not helping her case is that Claire's knee is so close. Very close to exactly where she wants it — needs it. If Jill lowers herself down, even just an inch, the pressure would ease. But she knows if she does, any sense of control would dissipate.
"You've got me all worked up now," Jill whispers, voice drowned out with urgency. "Damn it, you." Jill chuckles, and it's infectious enough for Claire to expel one too.
"My mistake," Claire says with a slightly apologetic tone. "Sorry."
"Heh… no, you're not," Jill mumbles against the fabric of Claire's usual black tank top.
"Yeah, you're right. I'm not." The last words come out in a hush. Claire moves, her knee brushing there slightly, and Jill can't be sure if it's done intentionally or not. Regardless, the friction stimulates exactly what she needs — the need to be felt. To be touched. And goddammit, it was all Jill could think about.
"Fuck," Jill gasps, breathless and completely bewitched by Claire's words. Her touch. Everything entailing Claire. "What am I going to do with you?" The question is rhetorical, something said out of harmless banter. However, for Claire, it's something she can indulge further.
"You gonna write me up another fine, Officer Valentine?" These words are what send Jill tumbling over.
Jill cups Claire's cheek and yanks her forward, their mouths ghosting over the others, something not quite a kiss. "If you don't let me finish, I just might have to," Jill hums, the vibration in her vocals shoots down from Claire's lips to the nerves rooted in her throat. It kicks the pulse beating in her chest, and the knee she has tucked in the space of Jill's legs is now being rolled onto.
And Claire gives in.
In a split second, cuts straight to the belt of Jill's pants. With a flick, the clasp of a buckle comes undone, and with a tug, nothing happens.
"How in the-" Claire says to no one in particular, while her hands frantically search for instructions on how this godforsaken belt comes loose.
Jill chuckles at a bewildered Claire, and honestly, she can't blame her. "Here," Jill comes in to help her — and ultimately herself — to undo them. A buckle unclasps with a resounding echo. The strap of a belt ripped off. And a button is undone on Jill's pants. An astounded laugh releases from Claire, amazed at how effortlessly Jill undid it compared to her futile attempt.
"You'd better teach me how to do that — for future reference," Claire suggests, swiftly slipping a hand beneath the dense fabric.
"In due ti-" The air is knocked out of her the moment Claire finds exactly where she is needed, and the contact draws a low whine out of Jill. Tracing lazy circles, arousal tickles the bottom of Claire's belly at feeling just how wet Jill is, and knowing she is the cause of it fills Claire with the utmost confidence.
Devoid of thought, Jill rolls in tandem to the rhythm of Claire's fingers. Heat roils inside her abdomen, spreading out further, tightening the knot stinging at her stomach. A hand falls from Claire's waist to the bench, the weight tugging out from beneath her.
"Claire…" Her voice strains on the verge of a plea, a squeezing the end of the bench. Hearing the distress, Claire edges the entrance and then slides a finger inside. She knows what she wants. Knows just how she likes it.
"Don't worry," Claire assures, pressing a kiss to the side of Jill's cheek, tasting the faint amount of sweat. "I've got you," And Claire does, her voice sounding like a prayer. A second finger resides at the base before seeping inside with the first. There's an inaudible mumble, and with a stroke along one of her walls, it alters into a low moan.
Gripping the hem of Jill's shirt, Claire rides it up, revealing the toned muscles and a black sports bra. Claire tucks a hand under the material to cup Jill's breast. Applying pressure to the loose tissue, the flat of her palm smoothing over the hill of her nipple before pinching it, and Jill cracks under the touch with a weeping sigh.
Mouths collide sloppily, swollen from the abundance of saliva, senselessly grasping for more proximity as the aroma of sweat and musk drowns their noses. Jill clasps around the hand fingering her, pressing it harder into the wetness. Begging. And Claire listens.
She curls her fingers in just the right way for Jill to exhale another moan. Rubbing languid circles with her thumb, Claire guides her through, all the while desperately trying to ignore her own pool of arousal climbing inside her. An impossible idea, and as more exquisite sounds release under Claire's very own touch, it rises even higher.
"What do you need?" Claire whispers, the feeling inside her craving more of Jill as the dampness in her own underwear seeps to the rim of the material. What little remaining self-control Claire has starts to relinquish as she starts to roll her hips feverishly, but ultimately she chooses to ignore it, instead turning her own desire entirely onto Jill.
"More… inside…" And Claire gives her exactly that, driving knuckle deep with more pressure than before. With every stroke of Claire's thumb and every push of her fingers, the knot in Jill's stomach tightens even more, and each groan of her voice strains more than the previous one.
"God," Jill exhales, vigorously grinding for anymore friction. Claire's palm presses against her folds exactly how she wants it, a thumb on her inflamed clit, coaxing her closer to release.
Jill's pulse heightens, the walls around Claire's fingers convulse, and a wave floods her very own core. Movements become more frantic. Claire catches up with the quickening pace and eases Jill through her climax. Thighs tense around Claire's wrist, and then the knot woven inside is unbound. Perhaps if it weren't for all the foreplay, Jill would be able to hold it off a bit longer. Regardless, Claire escorts her through until she is empty.
Reality is slowly brought to Jill, her breath starts evenin out, and the haze in her sight clears to witness Claire gather a soaked hand-wash and glass of water. After quickly washing her hands underneath the tap, Claire holds the glass out to Jill. "Thanks," Jill says, taking the glass, downing the water in gracious sips, all the while Claire wipes away the thin layer of sweat saturating her face.
"Remind me to wear my uniform every time you stay over next," Jill comments, taking another sip of water. Every wipe of the hand-wash begins to regulate the heightened body temperature, and the rise and fall of her chest gradually slows.
"The uniform is just a bonus to me," Claire confesses with a cheeky grin. "Will you be late to the station now?" She asks, rinsing the hand-wash under the tap.
"Probably," Jill tries to wipe the exhaustion from her face, "I'll make up an excuse. Honestly, it's the last thing on my mind right now." Jill swirls the glass in thought, then exhales a defeated sigh, "I really should get going now."
"I know," Claire nods understandingly. The hand-wash drops onto the bench, the texture quickly replaced with strands of brown hair. Claire attempts to comb them neatly into their original place, but her movements are sluggish, probably from sensation still residing in her. The lids of her eyes weigh heavily with exhaustion, and her legs are shaken from arousal; a wave of guilt washes over Jill, aware of the lack of reciprocation on her part. Oh, it's definitely from the sensation still there.
"Sorry, I can't... You know," she places the glass down, "Return the favour right now."
"Don't worry about it," Claire encourages. "Seeing you like this is enough for me," her thumb rubbing reassurance into her arm.
"And I am very thankful for it," Jill says with a heartfelt smile. "I really need to go now," ensuring she is serious, Jill begins to pick up the belt and pouches at her feet, slipping them on and clasping the buckles through their seams.
"I get it. Duty calls, Officer Valentine." There's that fucking bashful smirk on her face again, and Jill's eyes narrow out of mild annoyance — by the fact she indulges it, every, single, time. "When you return the favour next time, just make sure you're in uniform then too," Claire comments, sneaking in a wink and Jill's heart can't help but soar, and although she doesn't allow it to show, she's got a hunch that it will not matter.
"Right, noted."
After this morning, Jill would certainly consider accepting Claire's suggestion.